


Triquetra

by Sugar_and_Salt



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Amnesia, Arranged Marriage, M/M, MAMA Era Powers (EXO), Mystery, Romance, Side KaiXing, Smut in one chapter, Steampunk, alternative universe, because why not, please don't get your hopes up though, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-17
Updated: 2019-05-08
Packaged: 2020-01-15 14:04:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 44
Words: 88,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18500518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sugar_and_Salt/pseuds/Sugar_and_Salt
Summary: When Chanyeol comes to, he finds himself in a foreign country, about to get married and unable to recall how he got into this situation. Minseok knows exactly why he's arrived in Berien, but he's all the more unhappy about it.





	1. Chapter 1 - [Copper]

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shinealightrose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinealightrose/gifts).



> Hi, hello, I finally made it!  
>   
> To my recipient: I am SO sorry for being so terribly late. Like wow, half a month late, what a way to be a disappointment. I think I confessed how much I look up to you countless times already, so I'm not even gonna bother, but I really hope you like this! > <  
> I know it might seem like I disregarded your preferences, but, uhm. Try to trust me on this. I did my absolute best!  
>   
> Thank you to yifantares for betaing this, and in such a short amount of time! You're truly amazing.  
>   
> THANK you to [@kjdkmszyx](https://twitter.com/kjdkmszyx) for test-reading this. You truly kept me motivated when I was at my lowest ;;  
>   
> Thank you to texturedjeans, for taking time to fix my plotholes despite your busy schedule - even if I try not to rely on you too much, I always show up at your metaphorical doorstep, anyway, huh?  
>   
> Thanks for the peeps on twitter who participated in my little polls for this fic, helping me make small decisions ♡  
>   
> And lastly, thank you to everyone who knows me, for enduring my _incessant_ , never-ending talk about this fic. I don't know how you do it sometimes, but thanks for being so patient with me.  
>   
>   
> Have fun reading and feel free to share your thoughts via comments, [cc](https://curiouscat.me/SugaryandSalted), or wherever else you can find me (please don't come find me in real life, I swear I didn't mean to offend anyone with this)  
>   
> Love,  
> Sugary ♡

 

When he came to, it was to rhythmic clanking and a faint grinding sound. At first he thought a machine was malfunctioning, that parts were painfully chafing each other down. It took another moment to realize where this association was coming from. He knew this sound from his workshop.

The workshop.

Was that where he was? The smell was all wrong, though. It was sharp, like someone had rubbed every surface down with alcohol. It reminded him of... a hospital.

He opened his eyes to see strips of fabric. A veil. He really was at the hospital. Why?

His back was aching a little, as if he'd been lying on the bed for too long, and when he tried to move his head, it felt strange. It was bandaged. But why?

He couldn't remember how he had gotten himself hurt and the feeling was wrong and scary. The harder he tried to remember, the further his memories stepped away from him and the more questions popped up.

What had he been doing?

"You're awake! How are you feeling?"

He blinked away the daze, looking at into the unfamiliar face of a female doctor. She looked nice, but there was undoubtedly a cool, professional air around her. She was smiling, though, and that was enough for him.

"Good?" he asked, rather than stated, carefully trying to sit up. The doctor observed him closely, but didn't try to stop him.

The room was small, and it looked crude, compared to the hospital wings he had been to as a child. Maybe seeing so many mechanisms and machines had simply dampened his sense of wonder at some point.

"Why am I here?" he asked slowly, carefully leaning against the metal frame of the bed. The doctor lifted a brow in something akin to suspicion.

"You don't know?"

Shaking his head hurt, so he stuck to a negating hum.

"What's the last thing you remember?" she then asked.

He thought about that, one hand absently running over the soft sheets. His own fingers were rather rough and calloused, and the second section of his ring finger felt a little stiffer right where one of his scars was pulling the skin taut. It looked strangely healed compared to what Chanyeol had subconsciously expected to see.

"I... was working on something. In my workshop," he began slowly, trying to remember what it had been. "A clock, I think. I don't know much about clocks, but this one was special, so I helped someone out-"

"What day was that?" the doctor cut him off, sounding more and more on edge.  
He thought about that, too.

"I don't know... January the fourth maybe? Or fifth. I kinda tend to lose track of the date a lot," he admitted sheepishly.

"And which year?"

He blinked.

"Sorry?"

"Which year was that?" the doctor repeated, and again he wanted to shake his head, in disbelief this time.

"1846," he replied, unable to keep the impatience out of his voice. "Are you telling me I slept for several months?"

"No," the doctor said, her voice easily as tense as her posture.

"You were unconscious for barely longer than a day."

He fretted the answer but the question tumbled out before he knew it.

"And what date do we have?"

The doctor was already reaching for a clipboard, sounding all sorts of alarmed.

"It's the sixth of May. 1848."

 

* * *

 

 

"Let's start slowly. What is your name?"

It was a simple question. One that no one should have to think about.

There were two doctors looking at him now, sitting across him in a simple office. A little to the side, a scribe was looking at him with thinly veiled curiosity, fountain pen hovering over the parchment, ready to document anything he might say. They'd said the presence of a scribe was a formality, a rule they had to abide to. It wasn't a rule he had ever heard of.

With a deep breath, he closed his eyes and yes, of course he knew his own name.

"Park Chanyeol," he said, and the next question was thrown at him before he knew it while metal softly scratched against paper.

"Where are you from?"

"The West," Chanyeol replied promptly, listening to the stream of information as if it was new to him, as well. "The capital, to be precise. Sylvell, the town in the black mountain. My parents are part of the crown. I'm not home, or am I?"

He opened his eyes to see the female doctor from earlier scribble away, leaving it to the second one to explain.

"You're in Berien."

Chanyeol scrunched his brows together as he tried to make sense of that. Of anything, really. Hardly anyone was brave enough to visit Berien as a foreigner. Out of all three nations, the Eastern one was by far the scariest, peace treaty or not. Sensing his confusion, the doctor decided to take the lead.

"You arrived in time for the fourth Triquetra. Do you know what that is?"

"Sure," Chanyeol provided, eager to get to the point. Everyone knew about the conditions of their peace treaty, which included every nation giving up on their most powerful mage of every generation, bonding them together and thereby sealing their powers.

"And do you remember volunteering to represent your nation?"

Chanyeol blinked, but it wasn't an image he was trying to make sense of.

"What? I... did?"

Again, everyone was looking at him, gauging his reaction. They probably expected him to be furious, to deny everything and demand to be taken back home. Sure, there was no reason for him to believe them. He couldn't remember having volunteered for this. And he could also see most people being agitated over being ripped out of their previous lives, stripped of most of their power only to live in a land full of strangers. The thing with Chanyeol was that he could see himself volunteering for this. His mother had been part of a very old bloodline glowing with ancient magic, and it showed in her children. It had always been likely that one of them would be chosen for the bond, and Chanyeol wouldn't wish that upon his beloved sister or the other children of the crown he had all but grown up with.

So really, he wasn't too upset about the state of things as much as he was simply confused.

"What happened, though? Why can't I remember anything?"

The doubts and confusion traveled over to the doctor's faces.

"We don't... know exactly," the woman finally said, restlessly tugging a strand of hair behind her ear. "There was an accident, with a bookshelf crashing down and burying you under it. You hit your head in the process."

"That sounds pretty straight forward," Chanyeol commented, and the doctor shrugged.

"It's an educated guess. You weren't alone in the library, but no one witnessed any of it directly. We figured you would be able to tell us more but as things are, we'll have to rely on our intuition. Which means that if you encounter any sort of unexpected pain, from itching to mild headaches, you need to let us know. We called for a healer to be sent from overseas, but it will take a few days for them to arrive. You probably know how Selvens are when it comes to airships."

Chanyeol nodded mindlessly, listening to all the new information echo around his head.

He was in Berien, far away from home.

And he had come here on his own, in order to be married to the most powerful people of Berien and the northern kingdom of Revria, respectively.

"And the bond," he began, absently rubbing his wrists, "has it been formed yet?"

Was he already married?

"No, god no. We were holding off to make sure you'd- recover," the doctor said, awkwardly cutting himself off. Right. It would be pretty bad if he died during the bonding ritual or right after, for many reasons.

Chanyeol nodded numbly.

"Alright then. When will the ritual take place?"

Behind him, a door opened with enough force to have Chanyeol flinch and whip around. The person who had just barged in, holding on to the door handle still, was a young man around his age. Chanyeol's first impression was that it was impossible to tell whether he was of high descent or not, with his simple, but well-groomed appearance. Bright eyes sought his immediately, and the heavy breathing told him that the boy had been hurrying.

Then the bright, greenish eyes flit up to look at someone else, presumably the doctors, and he drew back a little, swallowed audibly, and then ducked his head. Even as he left the room, he kept throwing glances at Chanyeol, who only averted his gaze when the door closed with a soft click.

How very strange.

The doctor cleared her throat and Chanyeol finally turned back to her.

"I apologize. He was worried about you," she provided, and face to face with Chanyeol's confusion, she sighed.

"He's Berien's child, the one who will enter the bond with you... tomorrow. Kim Jongdae."

"Oh," was all Chanyeol could say in response, and he really wished his brain had more to add to this situation. But his mind was wiped blank, giving up at the sudden influx of revelations. He wanted to go back to the hospital bed, curl up and sleep. Maybe he'd actually wake up two years later again, when everything would be all said and done already, and all his problems had dissolved over time.

A mere look in the face of the two doctors told him that this wasn't an option though.

So Chanyeol sighed, straightening his posture.

"Anything else I should know about?"


	2. Chapter 2 - [Silver]

While the airship was docking into the harbor, Minseok's gaze was locked on the ground, mindlessly seeking out patterns in the colorful tapestry beneath the metal grid he was standing on. It looked slightly worn out. This should be one of Berien's best airships - at least Minseok himself would make sure that the airship used to carry potentially important passengers between the capitals would be an impressive one.   
There was dirt gathering in the corners, and he wondered just how often the metal was lifted to scrub the ground below.

He shouldn't be this negative, but he couldn't help it. Not even the ride itself with the beautiful view could really distract Minseok from feeling like he was sailing towards a life spent in misery.

When the doors opened, Minseok waited for the other passengers to exit first. Upon stepping out, he was hit by the familiar scent of grime, smoke, and the faint smell of fried food, a mixture universal to all harbours, he assumed. That's where the familiarities ended, though. While he was ushered towards a rickety-looking lift by the Berien guides that had been with him ever since he'd boarded the airship, Minseok subtly took in his environment. Berien was indeed as underdeveloped as he'd feared it to be, and it became more obvious now that he was on land. The buildings looked rudimentary, with no trace of the elegant, high windows and intricate structures Minseok was used to. Even the people seemed to fit that stereotype, and it was painfully obvious who had been on the ship with Minseok - their bright, flouncy garments stuck out like a snowman in a dusty basement. It looked all wrong. Minseok considered his own wardrobe to be grounded and simple, but to these people, he must be looking like some pompous nobleman.

One of his guards gently nudged him, and Minseok realized that he'd stopped in his tracks.

He ducked his head and entered the car before they could jump to wrong conclusions. It was very obvious that they weren't actually there to guide him but rather to protect the precious sacrifice Revria was offering. And to protect their people from him, should he decide to go crazy and refuse to accept his situation.

He'd told them not to bother, and he could repeat the sentiment, but they'd stay cautious either way, so Minseok only stiffly sat down, looking at the shabby buildings flying by.

It had been years since he harmed someone using the cold slumbering within him, and even longer since he'd done so on purpose.

Minseok simply didn't care about the cold and giving it up meant hardly anything to him.

Outside, he saw more carriages than cars, and he suppressed a sigh.

 

Living far away from anyone he'd ever known? He didn't really care about that.

Giving up on using his powers? Not a big loss, to be honest.

Being betrothed to strangers? Not exactly a dream come true, but it would work out somehow.

But leaving behind the most advanced civilization on their continent, and with it, all his chances at becoming a successful architect? That was one thing Minseok simply couldn't forgive.

 

It was hard not to feel resentful as they entered the palace, which reminded him of an ancient, forgotten castle from the medieval age. There was hardly any technology in sight, but instead of being charming, everything just appeared old and badly maintained.

They entered a room with plenty of heavy curtains hanging on the walls like substitutes for artwork, and a horde of people sit around a wooden table in the center of it.

Formalities were exchanged and Minseok simply listened. His calm demeanour seemed to be a little suspicious to the Berien officials, but he couldn't care less. Most of his attention was subtly resting on the young man sitting across him, wearing a pleasant smile. He was relieved that at least one of his soon to be husbands seemed to be a reasonable, well-mannered person. Apparently, the third part of their bond was still in the hospital wing, recovering from what was vaguely called an _unfortunate accident_.

"Jongdae here will show you around, if you don't mind," one of the guards said, and no, Jongdae did not seem to mind. His expression was open and inviting, eyes bright and friendly.

"Let's go," he began, placing a hand on Minseok's upper back. The touch prickled, but Minseok refused to flinch or show signs of weakness. He simply wasn't used to people touching him, much less people with powers of their own.

As soon as they left the room, the hand was gone from his back. Minseok wasn't sure what to think of that.

"Okay, so you probably gathered that this is the capital's heart," Jongdae began, keeping it rather formal and jumping straight to the point. "Most political decisions are being made here, but there's plenty of wings dedicated to house people. We're currently in the entrance area. Our rooms are in the far corner of the North wing, right at the top. I hope you don't mind stairs."

Minseok shook his head as he followed along while Jongdae pointed out doors and hallways, telling him about the typical daily routine people followed. It seemed like the palace was a small society in itself, housing politicians, nobles, and countless staff members. Even among those, their role was special, and it was obvious by how isolated their rooms were. Whether it was meant to make him feel honoured or cast aside, Minseok didn't know. As soon as his powers were sealed away, his sole purpose in society would be to exist, after all.

"So, you're a prince?" he asked during a moment of silence as they took a rather narrow flight of stairs. He heard Jongdae huff a little, but his back didn't offer anything to interpret in terms of a reaction.

"I guess," he said, in an entirely un-princely way. Minseok knew that Berien was the most traditional out of their three kingdoms, still holding on to the old-fashioned concept of monarchy. He also knew that the current ruler had no children, and while Jongdae had been holding himself like a royal earlier, he had entirely dropped the facade as soon as they were alone.

"My parents died when I was very young, so my aunt and uncle are currently ruling," Jongdae explained with the ease of someone who truly wasn't all that affected by his parent's death. He must have been very young indeed. Minseok didn't intend to pry, though - it was none of his business, impending marriage or not.

"Another of my aunts participated in the last Triquetra, so we’re keeping it in the family, I guess. You're not a royal, are you?" Jongdae now asked with mild interest. He didn't seem to judge him, so Minseok shrugged.

"We do have a few noble bloodlines, but the ones who rule are not necessarily the blessed ones. I was simply chosen for my abilities," he said vaguely, wondering whether Jongdae would feel duped. Maybe he should.

"Ah," Jongdae only hummed, taking another corner, naturally navigating them through obscure-looking corridors. "The guy from Sylvell isn't exactly a prince either, but strictly speaking, it's about powers and not descendance. He also seems pretty relaxed about this entire thing."

Minseok perked up at the mention of Park Chanyeol, whom he had barely heard of before. To be fair, he had never been interested in politics of any kind, and he'd hardly had any time to prepare himself, with how his election to represent his country had come as a surprise. A very unwelcome surprise.

"What was that about the accident they mentioned?" he prodded, and Jongdae forced himself to smile, despite looking ahead.

"It was pretty bad. He hit his head. Can't remember a thing he did the past two years."

As if sensing Minseok's wariness, Jongdae patted his shoulder.

"Don't worry, you're not in danger or anything. It really was an accident. It wouldn't be in anyone's interest if something happened to you, right?"

"You're taking everything pretty well yourself," Minseok said instead of answering directly, and Jongdae blinked in surprise.

"Ah, it's not like I didn't know it was going to be me entering the bond," he waved him off, but Minseok only hummed pensively.

"Still. You'll be a part of this just like me and him."

"But at least I get to stay in my home country," Jongdae added, and Minseok held back on a biting remark on how he maybe _should_ be sad about that. The last Triquetra of people had been housed by Sylvell and the next one would go to Revria. Minseok felt a little duped himself, if he was perfectly honest.

"If you say so," he said instead, and Jongdae was already opening a door, ignoring the loose end of their conversation.

"This is our little wing," he announced, stepping aside to gesture into the room. It was much less claustrophobic than the other rooms Minseok had seen so far, with the ceilings being higher. A staircase led to more rooms above them, and across the door was a wall consisting mostly of a wide window reaching almost to the ground. Cushions and armchairs were spread close to the window, making it look like a cozy spot to read in.

"You can see the sunrise from the upper rooms, and it's pretty sunny down here throughout the day, so just pull the curtains closed if it gets too much. Help yourself to books, if you feel like it," Jongdae rambled, gesturing over to shelves tailored to fit beneath the staircase. "They furnitured two more rooms so all of us can have a separate space to be in. Here's the bathroom-"

He walked over to the left corner next to the staircase, and only now did Minseok notice the antique-looking piece of furniture that had been right next to the entrance. A large mirror was fixed above it, with a piece of paper being taped to the glass.

Gingerly, Minseok stepped closer to examine the sharp, neat letters someone had obviously written with much vigor.

 

_'Don't you dare fall in love with him.'_

 

He tilted his head, eyes still glued to the note.

"Who's this for?" he asked, and Jongdae returned to his side, following his gaze. Confusion turned to shock, and then the paper was ripped off the mirror.

"Sorry about that," he mumbled, tugging Minseok along to show him the bathroom as if the incident had never even taken place. How very strange.

That night, as he lay in a foreign bed, surrounded by foreign scents and the moonlight dipping everything in a ghostly light, Minseok still thought back to that note. Whom had it been meant for? And who had written it? It could have very well been a message to Jongdae, or one from Jongdae to Chanyeol, or even to him.

Either way, something about the entire situation was off and he couldn't put his finger on it. The fact that one of them had been involved in a heavy accident before the bond was even formed didn't do anything to disperse those suspicions.

With a small sigh, Minseok turned to his side, burying his face in the thankfully soft blankets.

He really hoped he'd survive the following week.

 


	3. Chapter 3 - [Copper]

Sylvell was a rather hot country. Sure, they had winters, too, sometimes cold enough to freeze the morning dew, but their summers were long and scorching hot. Chanyeol didn't know the exact reasons, but he knew that being born with a gift wasn't as rare as it was in other places, and the gifts pretty much unanimously centered around heat. Other places tended to have less gifts, but more diverse ones. To Chanyeol, however, growing up with his affinity to heat was not too rough. Sure, he was different, but not  _ that  _ different. Only during his teens it became apparent that his potential was higher than his sister’s, and maybe even higher than that of any child of the crown.

As a five year old, Chanyeol had dreamt of becoming a fighter in the colosseum, battling others with his power and coming out on top to become a longterm champion that his older sister - the rookie - would have to try and defeat during their play fights.

Chanyeol was pretty much like a lively little flame himself, and growing up brought many more interests to the table, some of which were dropped almost immediately - like studying alchemy - and others that lasted a while longer - like becoming a warrior.

At the age of twelve he ended up in a forge for the first time, and it soon became his second home. Of all the activities and hobbies Chanyeol had had, forging came out on top, feeding off his urge to create things.

At the age of seventeen, a clumsy incident led to him almost slicing his arm off, and that's when it turned out that the dream of five-year-old Chanyeol had come true. He wasn't simply attuned to heat, no, his abilities ran deep enough to lead right back to the guarding patron of Sylvell, the phoenix. The deep flesh wound hardly bled, and healed eerily fast, causing close to no pain.

It was around that time that it became obvious Chanyeol would be sent away as soon as the next Triquetra was formed.

He had fret a lot over this, had tried to talk himself out of it, had anxiously waited for someone else to be chosen, because he still had so many aspirations in life. Being the crown's wild child was easy if you were born and raised in the castle. Beriens were known to be more rigid, and the country was said to be a dark place where people were on their own, with no protection from a patron, and an old-fashioned monarch.

He really couldn't imagine a fate worse than spending his days as a meaningless, political trophy, far away from home, in some lonely castle.

And yet he found himself sitting at a long table, unsurely smiling at politicians, representatives and noblemen alike. To his right sat Kim Jongdae, prince of Berien, and to  _ his  _ right sat Kim Minseok, whose blank face hid his own anxiety perfectly well. Chanyeol could  _ feel  _ the cold radiating off him, and it had been growing stronger throughout the banquet. He had no idea what was going on in Minseok's head - heck, this was the first time he had ever seen him - but he seemed rather unhappy to be here.

Chanyeol wasn't all that sensitive to other people's abilities, which made it all the more impressive that he could feel Minseok's strength so clearly. Jongdae, on the other hand, radiated nothing at all. A barely there fuzz maybe, the faintest of statics. He was pretty sure that he'd already encountered people that evening with a stronger aura than him.

Not that Chanyeol was judging him, but Berien, too, was duty-bound to sacrifice their  _ strongest  _ child, and Jongdae seemed almost comically inconspicuous.

He held himself well though, and he'd been nothing but jovial and kind towards Chanyeol, exchanging a few polite set phrases throughout the evening, all meaningless, but friendly chatter.

Chanyeol really hoped that he would be less distant in private - after all, he was going to spend the rest of his life alongside him.

Him and Minseok.

Said boy met his gaze, and Chanyeol grinned sheepishly. A question twitched over his expression, and then Minseok averted his eyes again to look down at his food.

Chanyeol half expected the cold to freeze his glass of water.

With a sigh, he went back to politely smiling as people chattered at them, rather than talking to them. In a few hours, the ceremony would take place and it would all be over and done with.

  
  


Chanyeol's abilities were not like a sixth sense, nothing that was permanently noticeable to him and those around him. Rather than that, it was simply something he could do at will, something that was natural to him but not to others, like rolling his tongue. He could call forth the heat at will, something he had painstakingly trained to perfection during his time as a blacksmith trainee. It was very much regrettable that he'd have to give up on most of it, but he could still create things, so he would be fine. He was also aware that sealing away his abilities would take away the phoenix's blessing, making him vulnerable. That was even more regrettable, but if other people could live their lives like that, so could Chanyeol.

That's what he’d assumed at least. He was wrong in one point.

 

" _ Ah _ -"

"Tighten the belts," someone said calmly, and Chanyeol winced, couldn't help twitching and trying to tug his arm free, but multiple belts were strapping it to a table. Belts that were now tightened. The searing pain returned as the seal was etched into his skin, green ink that contained blood of both Minseok and Jongdae. The other two were with him, their right arm tied down just like his, forming a triangle as two other high priests drew the seals on them, as well.

They didn't move, at least as far as Chanyeol could tell through his blurry vision. They didn't groan and whimper like he did, either. He just couldn't help it - it simply hurt like nothing he'd ever felt before, threatening to send him into panic.

'I think something's wrong,' he had blabbered, trying to pull away, but he had been reassured that no, everything was going as planned, and it was simply the absence of the phoenix he was feeling. They told him he was sensitive after growing up without pain.

Chanyeol had no idea how anyone in their right mind would be able to endure this. He had trouble thinking straight, and in his feverish mind, he prayed to the phoenix to stay with him, apologized for the seal, repeated over and over again how thankful he had always been, but the pain wouldn't stop. Never before in his life had something hot felt so uncomfortable.

He tried to focus on Minseok, who was sitting there with his eyes closed, looking mildly strained, but otherwise perfectly fine. His arm was lying limply on the table, and not once had he tugged at the restraints.

Chanyeol scrunched his eyes closed, trying to imitate him, but he simply couldn't stop making embarrassing little noises. With his free hand, he smeared the tears over his face, only causing a bigger mess, really, and then he looked at Jongdae. For a moment, all his pain was forgotten as he saw the way Jongdae was staring at the table with a blank expression, tears rolling down his cheeks. Silently, without a word, without a single sob, he was crying and staring at the table, his breathing flat and repressed, as if he couldn't believe what was happening right now.

And Chanyeol wanted it to stop, not for his sake, but for Jongdae's. It was a fleeting thought, one that was chased out as the pain intensified. He wished for nothing more than to be able to grab Jongdae's hand and squeeze it tightly, but the priest was sitting between them and blocking his reach, so Chanyeol buried his face in his free arm to muffle his cries as a part of him was put behind bars for good.

  
  



	4. Chapter 4 - [Silver]

Minseok had been so very convinced that he wouldn't even notice the absence of his abilities.

Now that the seal was complete, burning as the priest applied lotion to it, Minseok already knew that he'd been wrong about that. He  _ did  _ feel different. For one, he felt warm all over, making him guess that he'd been making use of the cold more frequently than he thought he had. Must have been an unconscious process. There was something else though, something he couldn't put his finger on. Like something was missing. Like the drop you feel in your stomach when you realize that you’ve forgotten about something... but can't quite remember what it was.

It felt a little lonely.

Minseok's eyes fluttered open, allowing his surroundings to blur out distract him.

There was no such thing as being lonely in your own skin.

To his left, Chanyeol was breathing as if he'd been running for hours on end. He didn't know all that much about Sylvell's blessings, but they'd told him that it was natural for him to be in such pain. Minseok didn't want to be in his place. When he looked over to Jongdae, he was surprised to see him crying. His breath came out shallow, and his eyes were resting on the violet ink sitting beneath his skin like a parasite.

One of the priests was waving a hand before him, asking for a response, but he didn't say a single word, and more tears rolled down his cheeks uninhibited.

As soon as the belts were loosened, Jongdae jumped to his feet, leaving the room without meeting anyone's eyes, ignoring the way the old priests called after him.

Without thinking, Minseok loosened his own belts - which took a little, with his dominant hand being pinned down - and got to his feet to follow him. His muscles felt wobbly, but he stubbornly steadied himself on the table before making his way to the door.

"Be careful - your body needs time to adjust," someone said, while another told him to leave Jongdae be, but Minseok wasn't listening.

It wasn't like him, he mused as he stumbled down a hallway, following the dull thud of Jongdae's steps. It wasn't like him to act on impulse like that. He supposed that it was the seal making him light-headed. A guard called after him not to try anything funny, but Minseok dismissed them, rounding a corner to see Jongdae slink inside a room at the end of the corridor.

Deep down, he knew exactly what was driving him to follow this person he had hardly even talked to, and it sure wasn't a sense of duty. Rather than that, it was pure shock - out of the three of them, Jongdae had seemed the most put together by far, and yet he was taking this so much harder than them. It made him wonder what kind of ability he'd had. Berien was undeniably the biggest hotchpotch of blessings people had ever heard of, and there really was no telling what it might have been. They were said to have an affinity for the weather, for storms and thunder, but that was a mere tendency among the sea of various abilities.

Minseok slowed down his steps, and by the time he opened the door, he saw the blood before he registered what was going on.

It was some sort of lab they were in, with Jongdae kneeling on the ground, fingers digging into his upper arms, nails scraping and scraping, breaking the skin.

"Hey," Minseok hurried to say, closing the door behind him. What exactly he wanted to say? he had no idea. It was simply an attempt at alerting him about his presence.

Jongdae didn't react immediately, breath hitching as pressed his nail into the fresh cut. Minseok sank to the ground and placed a hand on his shoulder; Jongdae twitched so violently that the shock carried on to Minseok.

Wide eyes stared at him, recognized him, and then averted his gaze.

"Leave me alone, please," he uttered, eyes scrunched closed, and if the circumstances were any different, Minseok would have respected him and left. Now, he got a hold of both of Jongdae's wrists.

"You're hurting yourself," he stated simply, and Jongdae struggled, but was clearly weaker than Minseok.

"I'm just trying to  _ feel  _ something," Jongdae pressed out, still wriggling in Minseok's grip. "I can't feel anything anymore-"

"And seeking pain will change that? Calm down."

Even as the words left his mouth, Minseok was still asking himself why he even cared, but now that he was in this situation, he would see it through, and he'd do it right. He wrangled Jongdae's hands down, pressing them into the ground until he seized struggling, until he stopped heaving for air like it refused to come to him.

His eyes were still wet, cheeks tear-stained and as soon as the panic ebbed away, his body began to tremble, expressing just how overwhelmed he was.

"Now I really did it," Jongdae whispered, head lowered and shoulders drawn up.

"I have nothing left and there is no turning back. Are you satisfied now?"

Minseok tilted his head slightly, but didn't ask what he was talking about, or who he was talking to, for that matter. It was obviously not him.

Minseok couldn’t hold back on a quiet yelp when Jongdae's restless fingers dug into his own, fresh seal, and the sound seemed to tug Jongdae back to reality.

"Sorry," he mumbled, and when Minseok let go, he kept restlessly balling his fingers to fists. "Sorry. I'm... better already. I won't kill myself or anything. Don't worry."

The way he said it clearly suggested that Minseok had helped him out of pure devotion for the bond, for their country, out of political ideals.

Minseok couldn't care less about any those, but divulging on that would mean to have an alternate explanation at hand. Which he hadn't.

With a shaky sigh, Jongdae scooted back a little to lean his back against one of the cupboards. Minseok mirrored him because he couldn't think of anything else to do, and leaving now would seem weird.

For a few long moments, nothing but their breathing was heard, with Minseok's being barely audible and Jongdae's evening out gradually.

"What was your ability?" Minseok asked eventually. Somehow, he felt like he should know. He wanted to know.

"Intuition," Jongdae breathed out vaguely. "I could feel things. Sometimes I felt them before they happened. The smell of a storm, the movements of someone with great powers..."

He trailed off, head turning just enough to look at Minseok. Exhaustion had settled in, and he sounded defeated.

"It may not be much to you, or to this kingdom, really, but it was a part of me."

"Don't say that," Minseok argued. "Obviously, it was the most precious ability your kingdom had, considering that they chose you for this."

Jongdae only huffed, devoid of any joy. Minseok had meant what he he'd said. He also believed that his ability sounded incredibly powerful and involved, but he kept quiet about that. It was a little more obvious why Jongdae was so affected now.

"They said it won't be completely gone," Minseok stated conversationally. "If the bond settles, parts of it might come back to you eventually."

Jongdae didn't reply anything to that, and Minseok seriously wondered what had gotten into him. He couldn't remember the last time he'd tried to comfort someone, so of course it wouldn't work. What was he trying to do here?

He felt his own exhaustion nipping at his mind, dragging him down. The moment he acknowledged it, the sensation became heavier, and his eyes dropped closed.

It felt like a hazy dream, the impression of someone talking, two people talking, and someone moving him into a lying position.

  
  


* * *

When Minseok came to, he was in his bed. On a closer inspection, it was neither his bed back at home, nor his bed in Jongdae's chambers. It was too large.

Resisting the urge to doze off again, he turned around to blearily take in his surroundings. This was Jongdae's room. Jongdae's bed.

He was alone. On the nightstand was a carafe as well as a glass filled with clear water. Beneath it was a small piece of paper, displaying only a handful of carefully written letters.

 

_ Thank you _

 

For a long time, Minseok stared at the piece of paper listening to his mind toss around thoughts and feeling overall restless. Then he swung his legs out of bed, blinking against the early sunlight filtering into the room.

It was time to get busy. Sitting around wasn't like him, and he could use the distraction.

The note, however, was kept and ended up carefully tucked into his favourite book.


	5. Chapter 5 -[Copper]

Chanyeol was bored.

That was nothing unusual - he was terrible at sitting still and doing nothing, which was what he had been doing for the first two days after the marriage. To be perfectly honest, he’d already given up on the late afternoon of the second day. Jongdae was hardly around, staying locked up in his room until some officials came to bug him, tugging him out to do whatever courtly stuff one of his rank ought to do. He'd initially hoped to have Minseok keep him company, but the other was always glued to the desk in their living area, buried up to his nose in technical drawings. The desk was tucked into a corner, facing the wall, the window being nearby, but no sunlight reaching the paper he was drawing on. He didn't talk, didn't walk around, and didn't even sit down to have breakfast - he simply went straight to the desk, and not even Chanyeol dared to ask what exactly he was up to. Minseok was short, but kind of scary, and Chanyeol wasn't interested (or bored) enough to challenge him.

With Jongdae being cooped up in his room, that meant that Chanyeol was sitting around the table all on his own, snacking on the elaborate breakfast some staff member brought every morning.

He was really, really bored.

The seal had stopped hurting for the most part, and his hypersensitivity had calmed down, so Chanyeol deemed himself ready to venture out. Where to, he didn't know. He didn't even know whether he was allowed to roam the castle, but no one had told him not to, and keeping him locked up in a room for the rest of his days was unrealistic. At least, he hoped it was.

But no, nobody seemed upset over seeing Chanyeol aimlessly walk down hallways. He did get a few looks, but most of them seemed to stem from confusion over seeing an unfamiliar face. As far as he could tell, people in this country tended to be shorter than him, and almost everyone had brown hair, with rare exceptions of black and blonde, and hardly any dyed hair. It made sense that Chanyeol, whose average height towered over the rest would stand out with his red hair. Just that morning, Chanyeol had taken a close look in the mirror, fiddling with his hair and faintly worrying whether it would lose its vibrant color now that his blessing was sealed away. But his roots had always been kind of dark, so only time would tell. Chanyeol was admittedly a little vain when it came to his hair.

Other than the occasional looks, nobody paid him any mind or talked to him, which meant that Chanyeol had all the time in the world to get terribly lost in the castle. Not that he needed much time; he was just efficient like that, and possessed the fine sense of direction of a blind chicken.

He walked through halls and past closed doors, only opening them if no sign announced it to be someone's living area. The entire building seemed unnecessarily big and largely uninhabited, with plenty of offices and empty rooms that looked entirely unused. Maybe most of the employees had already gone home.

While it was true that Chanyeol was easily bored, he was just as easily entertained. Roaming through forgotten rooms, libraries and storage rooms was interesting, and he felt like a child exploring. He got sent away only once or twice, which was by far not enough to discourage him. He climbed stairs, trying to find a way to the roof, and when he succeeded, he spent a long time sitting on one of the terraces, taking in the view over his new home. Below him, the city bustled with life, having cut itself a place in the forest covering half of the land even into the far distance. The ground was uneven, and the castle seemed to have been partly carved into a giant mountain. Coming from a city that was almost entirely built inside a mountain, this felt familiar. Sure, there were less air vents and less machinery in general, but it seemed like the people didn't need any of that.    
Back in his home, the air would always be foggy, smoke and steam spreading in a deadly intensity from all the machinery keeping their city stable and functional, which is why they had such a developed air filtering system. Here, however, there was barely any smoke rising from the city, and most of it was of a pure white. Maybe a less advanced technology brought more advantages to this particular folk.

His thoughts sizzled out as he breathed in the crisp air, watching the sun set in the distance. He'd always enjoyed watching sunsets. It was kind of funny - even if he was far, far away from home, the sunset remained the same.

A sigh escaped him before he realized it. He was missing his home already.

Waking up to rhythmic sounds of machinery working smoothly, having breakfast with his family, or in the community rooms, spending hours on end in the forge, joking around with Sehun...

Sehun. He should send him a letter. He'd considered it before, but what if Sehun and him weren't friends anymore?

The last thing he remembered was them being inseparable, playfully competing for their master's approval in the forge. Sehun's blessings were barely existent, which might just make him a better smith, according to their master.

That was two years ago, though. A lot could change within two years. Still, he might be able to tell him what he'd been up to during the period he had forgotten about.

Chanyeol tossed the idea around, looking at it from every angle he could think of, before settling on giving it a shot. He'd write him a letter, but not mention his memory loss for now. If they were still friends, he didn't want Sehun to freak out - he was quite sensitive, despite his cocky appearance. If they weren't, then... well, then there would be no reason to tell him about it.

His stomach rumbled, and Chanyeol cringed. Maybe it was time to go back so he could eat the leftovers - if Minseok or Jongdae had even touched the food at all.

If only he could know the way back.

He braced himself for a long and confusing odyssey through the labyrinth that was the castle, and went from feeling lost to feeling  _ helplessly  _ lost.

The lights lining the hallways had flickered on a while ago, and he was losing track of time, with the lack of daylight and people making him feel even more lost.

It was obvious that he was way too low to be even near their quarters, and Chanyeol made a whiny grimace all for himself as he walked down yet another unfamiliar hallway. The subtle rise in temperature told him that he was deep inside the castle, surrounded by walls and maybe even below the ground. He'd take the next stairs available.

Metallic sounds filled the air, faint and all-too familiar, but what really caught his attention was the light coming from around a corner. Unlike the dimly lit hallways, the room was illuminated so brightly that it flooded the ground and walls.

It was a wonderful opportunity to finally give up being stubborn and ask for directions, Chanyeol told himself. The closer he got, the more noticeable were the mechanic sounds. Even this place had to have a machinery somewhere, and someone maintaining it.

Upon peeking inside, he was faced with what looked like a storage room for all kinds metal. It looked like a... workshop.

Something clanked, once, twice, thrice, and a small little thing came into sight, walking towards him. Instinctively, Chanyeol crouched down to welcome what turned out to be a small dog with coarse fur and eyes in the color of pure lamp black. He was excited and friendly, and Chanyeol loved animals, especially dogs, so he didn't hesitate a second before petting him.

"Hello there," he hummed, rubbing his back with both hands, and the little thing was so excited it was already attempting to crawl into his lap. One of his front legs was replaced by an artificial leg, which didn't seem to hinder the dog in the slightest. While petting him, Chanyeol couldn't help staring at the metal parts, admiring the simple, yet functional design. He had never seen prosthetics on an animal-

"You're late."

Chanyeol flinched, and then looked up at the young man who had entered his rooms, standing there with his arms crossed and streaks of dirt covering his cheek, clothing, and fingers.

It was obvious that this was his workshop.

"I got lost," Chanyeol rambled, quickly getting to his feet, much to the disappointment of the dog. "I was going to ask for the way, sorry-"

"I didn't say you were late  _ out _ ," the other cut him off, his voice deep and laced with a natural feeling of finality. "I said you were late. I would have expected you sooner, after what I heard about you."

"What you heard about me...?" Chanyeol trailed off carefully. This guy was short, even by Berien's standards, but his presence was steady and, quite frankly, intimidating.

"You're said to be an excellent mechanic," he stated, as if it was really obvious where his train of thoughts was going.

"Smith," Chanyeol corrected, and the other shrugged.

"Same thing, really. Take a seat," he ordered off-handedly, and left the room. "You want some cold tea?"

"Uhm... sure?" Chanyeol asked rather than answered, sliding into one of the chairs because he was confused and didn't want to potentially upset the other. Being a mechanic and being a smith was not at all the same thing to him, but again, arguing with who seemed to be the owner of a workshop was a no-go for a trainee like Chanyeol.

One question should be allowed though, and he asked as soon as the cup was placed before him.

"Why did you expect me here?"

The other relaxed a bit at that, and something akin to a smile tugged at his lips.

"Well, what kind of a devoted smith would you be if you could stay away from the forge for too long?" he asked right back at him, before offering his hand.

"Do Kyungsoo," he introduced himself.

His hand was covered in streaks of grime. Chanyeol didn't mind at all.

Neither did the small dog yipping for attention when Chanyeol went back to petting him.

"And this is Thoven."

"I'm Chanyeol," he said, and then repeated it to the little dog with a smile.

Now this was feeling much more like home already. 


	6. Chapter 6 - [Silver]

It might be slightly mean, but Minseok breathed out a sigh of relief when Chanyeol closed the door behind him and he was finally alone. The past two days had been suffocating. Sure, it was Minseok's fault for not being able to concentrate or relax around strangers, but Chanyeol was simply the human embodiment of being fidgety. The way he kept moving around spoke of fitfulness, slight nervousness and unspent energy, and it drove Minseok insane. It felt like an intense gaze boring itself into his back all day. Now surely Minseok could retreat to his own, tiny bedroom, but it lacked a desk to properly work on. Maybe he could have one arranged one day.

He leaned back in his chair, stretching his limbs and looking out of the window. The view was nice. No matter how primitive the town below them, from his position, Minseok only saw forests, mountains and nature in general, with only a single airship in the distance. He had never really felt the urge to venture out into nature - there were a few parks in his hometown, but Minseok had rarely made an effort to leave the house and take a walk in them. Now that he was watching over a sea of green, it occurred to him that maybe relaxation hadn't come to him because of all the people frequenting parks, and that solitude and nature together might be kind of nice, actually. Not worth moving out into the wilderness for, but nice enough.

He put down his pen and walked over to the table where this days' breakfast was still largely untouched. Chanyeol had apparently helped himself to some bread and eggs, as well as strips of meat and a very simple salad. It made sense, considering that Sylvell's capital was largely inside a mountain, with not much ground to breed or farm animals. He wondered whether eggs and meat were luxury foods to him. That aside, Minseok rarely ever ate bread, especially not for breakfast, and fried food or plain rice just seemed very strange for a breakfast. Luckily, the staff was considerate enough to serve a few salads, too. He would have liked to be grumpy and state how they tasted better at home, but that was clearly not the case - it was obvious that the kitchen staff weren’t too accustomed to his home cuisine (which consisted of mostly salads for breakfast and late dinners), but handmade food always tasted better than the industrially produced stuff. The potato salad was actually really good.

He looked at the other dishes, trying to determine which were traditional to Jongdae's kind. It was probably the plain rice, and the assortment of foreign-looking vegetables and what seemed to be different kinds of tofu. Not that he could really be sure.

When the staff knocked an hour later to retrieve the leftovers, Minseok asked them to leave one bowl of food on the table. They didn't seem to mind his dialect, and didn't question him either. For the longest time, Minseok stared at the assortment of food in the bowl he had put together. He told himself that if he'd already chosen the food and kept it in their room, there was no reason not to at least try it.

With the bowl in one hand, he walked over to Jongdae's room, hesitated, and finally knocked.

There was no immediate response.

Maybe he was asleep.

Then, many seconds later and just when Minseok was about to leave, the door opened with a soft click.

"What is it?" Jongdae asked almost wearily, and he looked like he had just rolled out of bed but could still use a full night's sleep. His hair was all over the place, and the loose top showcasing his collarbones was distracting. Wow, it really had been forever since he'd been close to someone, or seen a display of bare skin, for that matter. Minseok blinked, his expression perfectly blank.

"You didn't eat anything, and it's way past noon already," he stated, and he saw Jongdae's eyes flit down to the bowl in his hands, saw the way his expression flickered, only to settle into an apologetic one.

"I'm not hungry, but thanks," he murmured, and with a quick, forced smile, he closed the door again. Minseok simply stood there, before silently turning away and placing the bowl back on the table.

Useless.

He was so useless, why did he even try that? All he got from it was a sense of embarrassment.

With anxiety curling in his stomach, Minseok returned to his desk and grabbed a blank sheet of paper.

Back to sketching it was.

The sun had traveled a little further, but was still far from sinking when it knocked yet again. For a moment, Minseok waited for Chanyeol to open the door, but then it sank in that he was alone, and with a sigh, he placed down the pen. He could feel his focus slipping away almost instantly, and when the knocking returned, still soft but insistent, he tried his best not to feel annoyed.

He opened the door, expecting to see another staff member, but the man smiling down at him clearly was of higher status. It was obvious from the relaxed, confident way he held himself, and from his slightly rumpled, but expensive-looking garments.

"Hello. I'm Zhang Yixing, a friend of Jongdae. May I come in?" he asked gently, and Minseok wordlessly made room for him before he knew it. Something about the other's voice was too gentle to be refused.

"Thank you."

He also moved with a sense of ease and familiarity that told Minseok that he knew these rooms very well. At least, that's what he guessed with the way his eyes rested on Minseok instead of the room.

"Kim Minseok of Revria, right?" he asked, and it was obvious that he knew who Minseok was, so he only nodded.

"Did the seal heal up nicely?"

Instinctively, Minseok turned his hand to glance at the orange-colored ink. His skin was still slightly irritated but other than that, he had barely felt the seal's existence. Why had he even asked? Was this Zhang Yixing a doctor?

"It's fine," he replied curtly, wary of where this was going.

It wasn’t going anywhere, however, because after a soft "That's good to hear," the guy turned to walk up to Jongdae's door. Minseok watched him knock, equal parts restrained and insistent, and he didn't quite know what to do with himself as he leaned against the table and simply watched.

Knock, knock, knock.

"Jongdae?"

Jongdae seemed determined to ignore him, and Yixing simply kept knocking in short raps.

"Jongdae."

He didn't sound impatient or pushy, and Jongdae gave in first.

"Not now, Yixing," he groaned, his voice muffled but loud enough to carry the exasperation.

Yixing seemed delighted over the response, judging by his smile.

"Come out, Jongdae. You can't stay in your room forever."

Minseok told himself that there was no reason he was watching this little exchange, that he wasn't intently observing the way Jongdae hang on to the door as he looked up at Yixing with a mix of frustration and actual exhaustion.

"What do you  _ want _ , Xing?" he asked, sounding slightly defeated, and while Yixing was still smiling brightly, he had also subtly placed his foot against the wood, holding the door open.

"I'm in need of some herbs, so I was going out to collect them before the sun sets. Join me?"

Minseok found the concept of a royal crouching in the dirt to pluck herbs borderline scandalous, but Jongdae only sighed, deeper this time.

"I'm really not feeling it-" he began, attempting to close the door. Which didn't even budge against Yixing's foot.

"Read the mood, your highness," he said cheerfully. "That wasn't actually a suggestion. Get dressed, will you?"

Jongdae stared up at him, looking all sorts of reluctant.

Yixing stared back.

Minseok was waiting for Jongdae to shoot the other down. But he didn't.

Instead, Jongdae sighed deeply, ruffled his hair and muttered something about needing two minutes. Yixing allowed him to close the door this time, and Minseok tried very hard to convince himself that he wasn't disappointed. There was nothing to be disappointed about, after all. Jongdae had shot his friendly approach down, but because he liked Yixing, he'd caved in almost immediately. That was... logical.

Yixing walked back to the table, sending him a friendly smile that Minseok could only return in a very forced way, and the other's gaze slipped to the bowl on the table.

"Oh, are those leftovers?"

Minseok nodded, and decided that he'd had enough human interaction for the day, retreating to his desk by the window as Yixing casually snacked on small pieces of crispy bread.

He was annoyed, but mostly by the fact that he was annoyed, and he should really get back to sketching already. None of this made any sense.

Jongdae emerged from his room shortly after, and Minseok only looked up when Yixing addressed him.

"Do you want to join us?"

Minseok shook his head immediately, and with a gentle smile by Yixing and a casual, tired wave by Jongdae, the two left the room, closing the door softly.

Minseok turned back to the front, staring at the wooden desk. Then out of the window.

Finally, it was perfectly silent.

Minseok turned around again to look through the room, even walked around a little to take a closer look at the books on the shelves and odd objects Jongdae must have collected over the years. Ultimately, he curled up on one of the huge cushions spread on the carpet right by the window, watching the unmoving scenery in the distance.

None of it did a good job of distracting him. The regret had settled immediately after he'd declined the offer. He wasn't even in the mood for sketching anymore.


	7. Chapter 7 - [Copper]

Chanyeol still thought that being a mechanic and a blacksmith were worlds apart. He also assumed that Kyungsoo wasn't even a mechanic, but an actual engineer.

It was already apparent that Kyungsoo didn't give a damn about accurate terms though.

He simply demanded Chanyeol to show him what he was good at, and then worked with that, stating how he could need someone like him. Just like that, he had assumed that Chanyeol was going to be a part of his workshop, and therefore his assistant. Chanyeol simply went along with it. After all, it wasn't like he had anything better to do, and Kyungsoo seemed to be highly skilled in an area Chanyeol wasn't, which sparked his eagerness to learn.

It also helped that Thoven was adorable.

"Hand me the supporting anchor," Kyungsoo hummed, and Chanyeol looked at the array of compartments scattered across the workbench. He had never in his life heard of a supporting anchor and when Kyungsoo helped himself to something Chanyeol knew as an anchor bolt, he suppressed a sigh.

Kyungsoo was a genius, that much was obvious from the constructions he had lying around the workshops. He was also not used to teaching people, and from the way he was talking it seemed like he'd never been in touch with professionals. Like he was entirely self-taught. It was a little complicated and awkward between them, but Chanyeol knew when to zip it and not potentially embarrass his new mentor.

"What do you think is going to happen if the cog is snapped inside this?"

Chanyeol leaned in closely, looking at the contraction. Kyungsoo often asked stuff like that, testing his comprehension skills.

"Well..." he began, tracing out something with his finger - without touching anything, of course.

"As soon as you start the little motor, it would move these parts, and then those, and at some point, these forces will tug at the rod and move it."

"Which direction?" Kyungsoo asked, without missing a beat, and Chanyeol was still thinking about that when someone walked in, carelessly knocking on the door frame. It was Jongdae. He looked a little surprised to see Chanyeol, but the feeling was mutual. In the past few days, Chanyeol had hardly seen the other two, and he had certainly never seen Jongdae around the workshop.

"Oh," Kyungsoo said, sounding entirely unfazed. "Jongdae. What's up?"

Jongdae smiled, but it looked a little more strained than usual, and clearly, Chanyeol's presence was the reason for that.

"Ah. Nothing too important. I just need some fixing," Jongdae trailed off, placing something small in Kyungsoo's hands.

"Again?" Kyungsoo only asked, not even sparing a look at whatever Jongdae had given him.

"It's just something minor. I'll leave you two to it," he said curtly, smiling at Chanyeol almost apologetically before he all but fled the room. At least, that's what it felt like to Chanyeol.

"What is it?" he asked, and Kyungsoo didn't hesitate showing it to him, if only briefly.

"A watch," he simply said, getting to his feet to deposit the little mechanism. "You're awfully curious."

"I didn't realize you know Jongdae," Chanyeol went on, only to receive a judgemental look.

"He's our prince."

"Yeah, but- I didn't realize he'd walk in and out of your workshop," Chanyeol defended himself. "You two seemed familiar, that's all..."

Kyungsoo shrugged and slipped back into the workbench, already tugging his goggles over his head.

"I sometimes work for him. There's no need to be jealous."

"I'm not!" Chanyeol hurried to say, taking the bait without hesitation, and Kyungsoo lightly slapped his thigh.

"Hold still. You're distracting me."

Chanyeol obeyed, but not without a pout.

"You never complain about Thoven distracting you, and he moves around all day..."

"No matter how similar you two are, you're ten times his size, so hush," Kyungsoo muttered, already trying to plug the tiny cog into place.

With a smile, Chanyeol buried his face on his arms, watching Kyungsoo work. Being in the workshop was simply relaxing, and so was Kyungsoo, who sometimes reminded him of Sehun. He really hoped his friend would reply to him soon.

The curious visit of Jongdae wouldn't leave his mind either. When he returned to his room that evening, he casually brought it up to Jongdae, who only shrugged him off. Fine, if he didn't want to talk about it, Chanyeol couldn't make him. Maybe there really was nothing to tell. Either way, he wouldn't mind seeing Jongdae in the workshop more often. He had seemed like a fun, sociable person before their wedding, and he'd like to see  _ that  _ Jongdae again. Seeing him unhappy just felt wrong, and the way he had locked himself up inside his room after the ritual made his heart twinge in a mix of guilt and... something. It just didn't feel right.

Luckily, Jongdae seemed in much better spirits already because that evening, he ordered a few snacks to share with Chanyeol and Minseok, telling them about an upcoming social event they were all obligated to attend. He seemed relaxed, and suddenly, Chanyeol didn't mind being brushed off over whatever brought him to the workshop anymore. He didn't need to drag him into his world of mechanisms, gears, and glowing metal to get closer to him.

 

* * *

 

The next day, Chanyeol shared breakfast with the other two and had a noticeable spring in his step when he entered the workshop, only to freeze in his tracks.

There, on the little corner of a table he had claimed as his over the past few days, sat a little figure. It was a rabbit, no taller than his ring finger. The design was undeniably crude, with large coogs and two sharp metal pieces for ears. It looked rough, but stable, and the ears even moved a little, if he pushed them to.

In a way, it might even be called adorable - though Chanyeol had an odd understanding of cuteness, according to Sehun - but the sight of the small thing only made goosebumps run up his arms.

Because it seemed to fit perfectly well into the small collection of animal figurines he had found in his luggage and that were currently sitting on his nightstand. No one had been in his room so far, so nobody should know about them.

Not even Chanyeol himself really knew about them. He had no idea where they came from and couldn't even be sure whether he'd made them himself or not.

"Kyungsoo?" he asked carefully, keeping his voice even. When he only received a hum in response, Chanyeol walked over to him, into the adjacent room, holding up the little rabbit.

"Who put that on my desk?"

Kyungsoo squinted at the rabbit, and then shook his head in confusion.

"No idea. Guess it's for you, huh? Does it need fixing?" he asked almost casually, but Chanyeol could see that the gears in his mind were turning, trying to figure out who had been to his workshop.

"It doesn't. I think."

"Show me."

 

Kyungsoo couldn't find anything to be off about the little rabbit, not even after dismantling parts of it, and when Chanyeol held the intact thing in his hand, it looked nothing but innocent.

Despite the odd feeling in his stomach, Chanyeol took it to his room and put it among the other animals. It fit right in.


	8. Chapter 8 - [Silver]

Minseok couldn't think of anything but how badly he wanted to rub his eyes, specifically his right one. It was itching. Maybe one of his lashes had gotten tangled in all that sticky stuff they had put on him. What had been an intense, dark look an hour ago, was probably ruined by his teary eyes already.

He should excuse himself and search for the bathroom.

But Minseok was stubborn and didn't want to leave the table for some reason. Around them, people were chatting, moving between tables, the buffet and the dance floor, all clad in costumes that ranged from subtle to ridiculous.

When Jongdae had told them that tonight's event would be a masked ball, Minseok had been even less enthusiastic than before, simply because dressing up seemed like a pain - and he had obviously not brought any fancy costumes with him. Jongdae dismissed his half-hearted complaints, and before he knew it, Minseok was stuffed inside a costume and endured someone painting on his face... and now he was sitting in the middle of a snobby event hosted for those who evidently deemed themselves a little too important. How reassuring to know that every nation had these types of people.

If it wasn't for his newly acquired status, he would have left the moment people let him out of their sight. As things were, however, he was some sort of political representative whose tasks entailed nothing but looking pretty and smiling at whoever was sucking up to Jongdae. The fact that both his husbands sat to Jongdae’s left was clearly no coincidence, either, as it allowed people to slip into the free seat to his right, which they did. Frequently so.

"Which is why I'm gathering statistics on our blessings and which stem directly from our deity slumbering in the mountain," some sleazy guy was currently saying. Jongdae's costume didn't come with a mask, but his polite smile would have sufficed as one, and while Chanyeol seemed genuinely interested, Minseok didn't trust this guy at all. Aside from them, two other people sat at their table, one of them being Jongdae's friend, Yixing, and the other had introduced himself as Junmyeon, official assistant and confidant of the prince.

With the way Jongdae behaved, Minseok sometimes forgot that he was supposed to be a prince.

"And what exactly is the purpose of that research?" He was now asking, and Junmyeon was shooting him what looked liked a glare, but Jongdae didn't even look in his direction, keeping his eyes trained on the snotty nobleman. Who didn't pick up on the subtle change in tone.

"Well, as we all know, we suffer from a very confusing history that muddled our blessings to the point that it's hard to say who has local roots and who hasn't-"

"And?" Jongdae asked slowly, and Minseok could  _ feel  _ the ice getting thinner beneath their feet.

"-and obviously, our original blessings should be supported and brought back to the surface again," the man continued, and Jongdae cut him off yet again.

"And how would you suggest we do that?"

Now the man finally stumbled, but he'd already reached a point of no turning back.

"If we could individually examine people, it would be easier for them to find a partner of the same origin and-"

"Rejected."

Jongdae didn't look all that mad, didn't even sound angry, but there was an undeniable, icy edge to his words. The man looked torn between embarrassment and anger, and yes, Junmyeon glare could probably kill at this point.

"No blessing is above the other, and partners shall not be chosen based on them. As long as we live, so will our deities’ gift within us," Jongdae said resolutely. "There will be no such thing as segregation by blessings or other factors that attempt to drive a wedge between us. As a nation, ee're aiming for harmony and equality."

The way the man's smile twitched told him that Jongdae had been spot on with his accusations.

"Of course-"

"You may research as much as you like, but I'm asking you to refrain from bringing ideas like these to the castle."

"Of course," the man repeated, already back to his feet and with a stiff nod, he left.

Junmyeon slipped into the free seat almost immediately, berating Jongdae for his direct, rough attitude in a hushed voice. Jongdae only sighed in exasperation and shrugged.

"What a dick," Chanyeol said, loud enough to also earn himself a glare by Junmyeon. Unlike Jongdae, Chanyeol bit his lips and lowered his voice significantly. "I didn't think people were allowed to be so rude to a prince."

"He kinda asked for it," Minseok shrugged, and when Jongdae met his gaze, he realized how intently he'd been watching him. He averted his eyes to look down at a tiny portion of overly fancy food.

"I don't know what you guys heard of this country, but we  _ are  _ changing," Jongdae said, "and I'm not going to give this up because of some race-focused, aggressive morons-"

"You never relax, do you?" a foreign voice said, and Minseok turned around to see a tall person stand beside them. His mask was resting on his head, showing a metal rendition of cat ears, and the choice was obvious - everything about the man made him look like a gepard turned human, from his slender, but trained figure to slanted eyes and curled lips. He emitted an aura of smug satisfaction, but the look in his eyes was piercing and attentive. With his costume revealing most of his arms and even slivers of his upper body, his sun-kissed skin tone really stood out, driving the message home that he was most certainly not born in Berien. Even the jewelry adorning his ears and wrists looked expensive and foreign, with green gemstones twinkling in the light. 

"Relaxing is not exactly part of my job," Jongdae sighed. The stranger leaned forwards to grab Jongdae's shoulders, with the belts on his costume hitting the chair.

"You're getting stiffer and stiffer every day, Chenchen," he crooned, kneading his shoulders. Jongdae slapped him away almost immediately.

"Don't call me that," he hissed, and wow, Minseok had never heard him so furious before. The guy took a step away, both palms raised in mock defeat.

"See, that's the spirit."

"Just leave, Tao," Jongdae sighed, and the huffed.

"That's what I get for saying hello, unbelievable," he said snippily, but his eyes were flitting between Minseok and Chanyeol. "My, your husbands do look all kinds of fancy."

Minseok felt the embarrassment flaring up, but refused to show it.

"I don't wanna hear that from you," Jongdae only said, and he sounded tired, at best. "Just leave already."

With a faint complaint over Jongdae being boring, Tao strutted away.

"Who was that?" Chanyeol asked incredulously. "He was even more rude."

"Zitao and Jongdae have known each other since their childhood days," Yixing answered for him. "They're always like that, don't worry. He means no harm."

"I mean... at least he complimented us?" Chanyeol added doubtfully, and Minseok couldn't help letting out a small scoff. He'd been doing his best to ignore his own costume, but with Tao looking at them like that...

"What? Don't laugh," Chanyeol pouted. "My costume is also cool."

" _ Also _ ?" Minseok asked quietly, shooting him a look. "Yours is the only one that looks good out of the two of us."

Indeed Chanyeol's costume reminded him of Tao's, with lots of leather and belts making him look like a fancy warrior where Jongdae simply looked like a prince covered in intricate metal swirls and polished gemstones. Minseok, on the other hand, had been clad almost entirely in layers and layers of white that were almost see through on their own, with hues of pastel bleeding in from the seams. His right sleeve was bunched into a leather glove that left a cut exactly where the seal was, showing it off to the world.

"What are you talking about? Your outfit is gorgeous," Chanyeol provided easily, and Minseok couldn't bear looking up from his plate.

"Please. I look like a fancy prostitute..." he mumbled, feeling humiliated to the core.

"What?!" Chanyeol almost yelped, and Minseok wished he would take it down a little. "No, you don't!"

He felt Jongdae lean into his vision, and upon looking up, his expression was one of worry.

"You really don't," he said quietly, all his former rage over politics and nosy friends forgotten for the moment. "I'm sorry you feel that way. I'll see to it that you get a different kind of wardrobe in the future."

"It's alright," Minseok sighed lowly, dropping his shoulders in resignation. Jongdae hadn't been the one dressing him, so being mad at him wouldn't help anyone.

"But I mean it, no one in this room thinks of you like that," Jongdae added, lightly touching Minseok's arm to get his attention once more. It worked.

"If anything, you look ethereal. Large quantities of fine silk are a display of royalty to us. The staff dressing you must have been enchanted by you."

Minseok was equal parts surprised, embarrassed, and flustered. Surprised because he hadn't been aware of the implications silk robes gave in Berien (which, in all honesty, was more food for thought on his previous understanding of Beriens in general), embarrassed because he had made a fuss about it... and flustered because Jongdae had described him as good-looking. He was still staring at Jongdae, mind wiped blank and refusing to offer an adequate apology for his behaviour when the spell was abruptly broken by Chanyeol.

"Say, Jongdae, is that a traditional dance?"

"Hm?" Jongdae asked, following Chanyeol's gestures towards a few dancing couples. "Oh. Yes, it's pretty much a standard dance here. Wanna learn it? It's easier than it looks."

"Really?" Chanyeol asked excitedly, leaning a little into Minseok, simply to make ridiculous puppy eyes at Jongdae. Minseok felt a little uglier for just thinking that.

"Sure thing. Let's go."

Like that, Jongdae was off to dance with Chanyeol, throwing a small, reassuring smile at Minseok before they were both gone.   
For a while, Minseok watched a group of masked, exotic dancers perform, but his gaze kept traveling back to Jongdae and Chanyeol, until he eventually gave up the pretense.

He watched them twirl and laugh, with the prince explaining the steps to him.

Without a word, someone slipped into one of the deserted seats, and Minseok was faced with ever so gentle Yixing, who silently refilled both their glasses, only to relax back into his seat and sip on his wine. Junmyeon seemed to have jumped at the opportunity to be able to leave Jongdae out of his sight and was nowhere to be seen. Minseok and Yixing were alone at the table.

"Are you pitying me now?" he asked, shooting him a small smile to which Yixing only replied with a questioning look. "You don't have to keep me company, you know? I'm fine."

It was Yixing's turn to smile.

"I figured that our outfits match well," he said, as if that explained anything at all, and Minseok couldn't help wondering what kind of person Yixing was. Jongdae had named him his best friend, and an excellent alchemist. He'd been the one Jongdae had sought out during his panic attack, too. There had to be something really special about him.

That aside, their outfits did match well, despite Yixing's peach-colored robe being less see-through, the texture smooth, the color creamy and overall more restrained.

"You're not from here, are you?"

Yixing insinuated a shrug, and took another sip of wine, jewelry glinting in the light.

"My parents were born in Selven. It's not a place I have any memories of."

Minseok hummed, and when a comfortable silence settled around them, he continued to watch the way Chanyeol and Jongdae were dancing. It was clearly clumsy, the way Chanyeol touched the other's sides and made them stagger from time to time. Jongdae was laughing, more hearty than he'd seen him laugh before, and Chanyeol's eyes were shining with happy excitement.

"You look like you've given up already."

"Huh?"

Yixing's look was gentle, but poignant, straying from Minseok to the dancing pair. Minseok tensed up, but couldn't help following his gaze.

"Given up on what?" he asked, a stubborn challenge at best, but Yixing didn't take the bait.

"Jongdae is a little difficult to get to, but you shouldn't let that stop you."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Minseok cut him off, but it was a mere formality, they both knew that. Yixing made a sound that sounded like an amused sigh.

"You're quite similar, too."

Minseok didn't say anything to that and Yixing didn't push him. He spent the following moments watching the other two dance. Soon, Jongdae would go back to being a bratty prince butting heads with politicians and nobles, wearing that breezy, trained smile of his.

For the time being though, he looked happy, and so did Chanyeol.

  
  


The next day at breakfast, Jongdae was sporting dark, purple marks around his throat and neck area that he nonchalantly covered up under Minseok's probing gaze.    
Minseok didn’t comment on it.


	9. Chapter 9 - [Copper]

_ Hey Yeol, _

_ It was about time you contacted me. In the end, I heard of your safe arrival and the completed ritual from the newspapers - irresponsible as ever, aren't you? I'm joking. It's good to hear that. I hope your two husbands are no snobby pricks. They sure looked like it on the newspaper photo. Wait, are your letters being scanned?  _ _   
_ _...am I suspicious for asking this already? _

_ Anyway, how is Berien? _

_ I'm not even surprised that you already found a forge and a master willing to put up with you. By the way, I passed my exam a few days ago! They had me do an engraving, a really annoying alloy, and asked me to implement a gem of my choosing. Obviously, I went with topaz, seeing as it's the hardest stone I could get my hands on. I think the fact that I faceted it was what really did it for them. Which is a relief, to say the least, considering how long I spent on the gem alone... _

_ Anyway, we're even now and you can stop acting like you got anything on me! Although, you probably went back to being someone's student, anyway, didn't you? That's just how you are, after all. _

_ Let me know how things are, I'm waiting for your reply. _

_ Sehun. _

  
  


The paper rustled as Chanyeol gingerly folded it together, placing it back on the nightstand. With a noisy exhale, he sank back into his blankets, aimlessly staring into the white morning sky filtering into his small room.

He'd read the letter at least three times already. Knowing that Sehun was still his best friend felt like the affirming tug of a safety net around his limbs. The words he had chosen, however, clearly suggested that Chanyeol was, in fact, a blacksmith master already. The fact that he'd forgotten about his exam, and passing it, was honestly disheartening. It felt like a title not earned. Obviously he couldn't tell Sehun that. The other had been right about his letters being potentially scanned, and while the newspapers had mentioned him having a small accident in the library, his memory loss had not been made public. Chanyeol was irresponsible, but not irresponsible enough to potentially cause a major political ruckus. He had to think about his wording carefully if he wanted to find out what exactly had happened in the past two years.

A knocking sound ripped him out of his thoughts.

"Chanyeol?" A muffled voice asked, and in response to his questioning hum, the door was opened to reveal Jongdae. He looked like he'd been awake and productive for hours already.

"Good morning. The Selven doctor arrived earlier. He'd like to see you as soon as possible."

"Oh. Sure thing," Chanyeol replied, throwing back his blanket, only to become acutely aware of his bedhead, his unwashed face, and bare chicken legs. Awkwardly, he covered himself with the blanket under Jongdae's neutral gaze.

"Give me five minutes, I'll just. Get dressed and wash up," he mumbled, and with a casual hum, Jongdae left.

For a moment, Chanyeol stared into space, feeling vaguely embarrassed.

He wasn't usually like that, but something about Jongdae made him... nervous. Awkward. Maybe it were his twinkling eyes or the perfect way he had fitted against him during the dance on the masquerade ball a few days earlier, or his curled, inviting lips. They had barely talked since they'd been declared husbands, which made it all the more ridiculous. Chanyeol was good at developing useless crushes, so maybe he should stop whatever this was before it could even bloom.

With a deep inhale, he suddenly jumped to his feet and got dressed, moving with all the more determination to cover up his antsy feelings. He was not going to make this any more complicated than it needed to be. The rest of his life had to be spent around Jongdae  _ and  _ Minseok, and the less complicated their relationship was, the easier it would be for all of them.

 

Chanyeol's doctor was a young, kind-looking man named Kim Jongin, who asked him a few questions, carefully pressed into various muscles and tested certain nerves for activity. In the end, he also took a blood sample to compare to the one they had taken from him shortly after the accident.

"So far, you seem to be in good shape," he'd said. "But we'll have to wait until I'm done analysing your blood if we want to be certain."

"So," Chanyeol began, wringing his hands in his lap, "do you think there will be a chance to regain my lost memory?"

The answer was obvious by the way the doctor grimaced.

"I will need to do some further examinations to say anything about that," he replied evasively, "but unfortunately, I would not advise you to get your hopes up. Recovering lost memories is quite rare and tends to be an exception to the rule."

"I see..." Chanyeol trailed off, unable to hide his disappointment. "Still, thank you."

"It's nothing to thank me for," the doctor replied with a gentle smile, shaking Chanyeol's hand and promising to send for him as soon as the results were out.

Outside of the makeshift office, Jongdae had been waiting for him. Now that Chanyeol had closed the door, he stood up immediately

"And?" he asked, and Chanyeol felt oddly warm, seeing the concern on his face. Having someone wait for him, really.

"He said I'm fine, but he'll properly analyze my blood to make sure," he replied dutifully, and Jongdae sighed.

"That's something... at least you're healthy now."

Neither of them mentioned his lost memories, but that was alright. Chanyeol smiled.

"You're right," he said, and meant it. He was alive and healthy; that was everything he needed.

"Do you wanna go for a walk?" Jongdae asked, wearing that kind smile that already felt all-too familiar to Chanyeol. "There's still some time until dinner, but hardly enough to get actual work done."

"Sure. Lead the way, your highness."

Jongdae good-naturedly rolled his eyes.

"You should have never met Yixing," he sighed as he started to walk down the hallway, with Chanyeol trailing after him.

"You prefer Chenchen?" Chanyeol asked, and it had meant to be a joke, but every trace of amusement was wiped off Jongdae's face in an instant.

"Don't-" he began, sounding pressed and defensive. "Don't ever call me that."

"Oh. Okay," Chanyeol stammered, lifting his hands despite Jongdae not looking at him. "I won't. Sorry. I didn't know you hate it  _ that  _ much."

Jongdae hesitated, and then sighed.

"I- I really don't like it. Sorry. And thank you."

The urge to grasp Jongdae's hand hit him out of nowhere, and Chanyeol reached out...

...only to let his hand sink again.

It simply wasn't his place. No matter how menial the gesture could be, with Jongdae, it felt somewhat  _ wrong  _ to initiate it. Chanyeol was lacking the words to explain it, but as much as he found Jongdae alluring, he also felt the barrier between them, one that was Jongdae's to control, and his alone. He may show him kindness, but it didn't feel like an invitation to overstep the invisible boundaries between them.

They walked around the castle gardens, with Chanyeol doing most of the talking, and it was pleasant and fun. By the time they met up with Minseok for dinner, Jongdae seemed to have let down most of his defenses, and was back to joking around with him. Instead of eating in their shared rooms, Jongdae had herded them all to the kitchen, where they occupied a table in a far corner. The area was huge, but the bustling of kitchen staff members was still noticeable, and no one seemed bothered by the royal presence, judging by the way they yelled and joked in the crude way people did when they were trained in physical labour. It felt familiar and pleasant to Chanyeol, who had grown up among loud and boisterous people first and foremost. Minseok, on the other hand, looked mildly uncomfortable and kept flinching at sudden, loud noises, shooting subtle glares at the noisy staff.

"Ah, sorry, is this too loud for you?" Jongdae asked apologetically, and Chanyeol was already pouting, perfectly certain that boring, bland Minseok was going to ruin this. To his surprise, Minseok lightly shook his head.

"It's okay. I'm just- not used to it."

There was a small stutter in his voice, not necessarily speaking of shyness, but rather a certain lack of determination. Minseok was a person who completely evaded Chanyeol's judgement. He just didn't know what to make of him. Personally, he was the type to jump to people's aids, especially if they were introverted and withdrawn. It was somewhat of a positively prejudiced behaviour, but he couldn't help it. Still waters ran deep, after all. Chanyeol did believe in that. Minseok, however, seemed to be a still water that made up for a lack in depth by inhabiting copious amounts of sharks.

Chanyeol blinked. He was thinking too much into this. There was no need to waste that many thoughts on a person who clearly wasn't even casually interested in him. With this, he stuffed a huge spoonful of potato salad into his mouth.

"Alright. Sorry," Jongdae chuckled, and Chanyeol wanted to tell him to stop apologizing. "I just find it pretty freeing. The noise, the relaxed attitude. The casual way they treat us."

Chanyeol had cleared a fourth of the bowl, maybe, when he began to feel dizzy. When his head started stinging, and a small, repressed "ouch" was all he could utter before the world turned soft and fuzzy around him. It turned and turned, and Chanyeol felt absolutely nothing when he blacked out.


	10. Chapter 10 - [Silver]

"He'll be fine."

Minseok kept staring at the closed door, as if he could see right through it. Yixing's voice sounded distant.

"Only because of your potion," Jongdae said somewhere to his right.

"You're giving me too much credit. The poison was incredibly strong. I think we have to thank his blessings instead. They might be mostly repressed, but obviously still helped to keep him alive."

Empty. He felt oddly empty.

"Hm. Sounds plausible... Minseok?"

His head moved without his mind really registering it.

"Hm?"

"Are you alright?"

Concern. There was concern swimming in Jongdae's eyes, and suddenly, Minseok wanted to hug him, hard enough to squeeze the air out of his lungs. The immediate afterthought was to flee, to go to his room, to start sketching.

Minseok did none of that and vaguely nodded. He sounded absent even to his own ears.

"Yeah."

"Maybe the two of you should get some rest," Yixing proposed. "It would be best if you stick together for now. There will be guards outside your quarters, but it’s better to be safe than sorry."

"Sure," Jongdae readily agreed, and Minseok didn't have the heart to deny the opportunity. He didn't feel all that good.

"I'll bring you a new antidote in a bit."

"Thanks, Yixing."

Jongdae always sounded so genuine when he talked to Yixing. So different.

Minseok tried to focus on him, on the featherlight touch on his upper back, but as soon as he moved on his own, the touch disappeared.

The way back to their quarters was quiet. It was always quiet when it was just the two of them. The fact that Chanyeol was missing felt ridiculously poignant, despite their marriage only lying a few weeks in the past. Minseok didn't even like him all that much, but never would he have wished anything like this upon him. If Jongdae hadn't been carrying around a strong antidote as he apparently usually did, and if Chanyeol's sealed blessings weren't stubbornly keeping him alive... he might have died. It was sheer luck that he had survived.

He could be dead now.

"They'll find the culprit," Jongdae said out of nowhere, while they entered their quarters. "To think that someone dares attacking him twice. The nerve."

He sighed, sounding more frustrated than anything.

"Is that... normal?" Minseok asked as he slipped out of his shoes.

"What is?" Jongdae asked, not unkindly. He really did seem upset, but not at him.

"Assassination attempts."

"Oh. Not... really," Jongdae trailed off, and upon seeing Minseok's reaction, he hurried to elaborate.

"It used to be a thing, in the past," he admitted. "It's kinda barbaric, of course. There were more when we- back in the days. When I was a kid, there were more."

"Why did they stop?"

Jongdae shrugged.

"I guess our security is good. And people don't really have a reason to want me dead. Believe it or not, I'm not  _ that  _ unpopular among people."

Minseok huffed, and Jongdae, interpreting it as snark, reacted with a sigh.

"I mean it. Compared to a lot of our past rulers, they think I'm spineless and too liberal. So, mildly annoying, but at least not a tyrant. As of now, my uncle has the final say on almost everything, anyway. I can only hope that by the time I'll join him, the folk will have gotten used to the new course we're taking."

"I didn't think you were unpopular,” Minseok said quietly, and Jongdae blinked.

"Oh. Well. Good. That's good," he said aimlessly, and Minseok took it as a cue to leave, to curl up under his sheets and draw his knees up to his chest-

"Ah, wait. Minseok."

He had already taken two stairs when he looked back at Jongdae.

"Yeah?"

Jongdae's smile looked awkward, but his voice didn't really leave room for protest.

"We shouldn't sleep in separate rooms. At least for the time being. We can't be sure the person is only after Chanyeol."

Minseok stared at him.

"It would be a little safer if we stuck together. And my room has no windows. The bed's bigger, too."

Minseok couldn't help the way his eyes widened, and he hated himself for it. Jongdae picked up on it, because of course he would.

"Ah, I can sleep on the floor, too-"

"No," Minseok cut him off, already turning away, fingers turning white on the staircase. "It's okay. I'll just get a change of clothes."

 

* * *

 

 

As a kid, Minseok had never slept in his parent's bed. Not a single time. As a baby, he'd slept in a little crib, as a toddler in a bed with a wooden fence preventing him from escaping, and at the age of three, he'd slept in his own bed. If he had a nightmare, Minseok would wake up feeling anxious, staring into the dark of his room for what felt like forever, clutching onto his small plush cat like a lifeline, imagining it coming to life to protect and cuddle him. If he was feeling particularly bold - or scared - he would very slowly tug on his curtains, opening them as soundlessly as possible, to look into the dark, dusty city below and around them. All the lights looked like distant stars in the fog, but they were comforting nonetheless.

As a teen, Minseok had rarely had sleepovers. There had been two, both of them rather awkward experiences, and in both of them, Minseok had slept on the floor, on a makeshift bed.

He had also never had a lover, despite having had crushes, sure.

When he lay in the dark, curled up on his side, facing the edge of the bed, he wondered whether all of those were the reasons his heart was beating so painfully fast.

It was truly pathetic.

Behind him, Jongdae was chuckling silently.

"Who would have thought that we'd actually share this bed under such circumstances?" he hummed. Early on, he had told them that their rooms were so small because technically, as husbands, they ought to share a bed. It was a formality, really.

And to Jongdae, this was nothing but a harmless joke.

"Have you shared your bed a lot?" Minseok asked, cringing at how awkward that had come out. Like he was jealous or anything. Or accusing him of having lovers.

"Hm? Occasionally? It's not really a big deal if you're a kid."

"Guess not," Minseok replied noncommittally.

"And, uhm. I haven't shared this bed with anyone for... other stuff," Jongdae trailed off, and the fact that he was starting to sound awkward only added to Minseok's discomfort. "So no need to worry."

Oh. Right. Of course Jongdae was assuming this was about cleanliness.

"That reminds me," Jongdae switched directions, and Minseok couldn't shake the feeling that the other's quiet, solemn voice had a intimate quality to it. "I know we're married, but you're free to, you know. Have a partner. No one's going to say anything, as long as there's no kids."

"You too," Minseok said, and wasn't sure he meant it.

"Ah, I'm just not that lucky in that area," Jongdae trailed off, and there was a smidge of bitterness lacing his word. Minseok wasn't good at talking about these things, but he wanted to know. He really did.

"Because of your status?"

"Wouldn't that make it easier?" Jongdae responded almost jokingly. Minseok figured that Jongdae didn't  _ really  _ want to talk about this and went quiet. For a long time, it was silent, and Minseok wondered whether it usually went like this during sleepovers. Was it alright to try and fall asleep now?

"Commitment just isn't really my thing, I guess," Jongdae said out of nowhere, and Minseok heard him rustle, felt the slight tug at their huge, shared blanket.

"It doesn't suit my role."

"As a prince?" Minseok asked.

"Just as me," Jongdae said, and that was it. Minseok knew that their conversation was over, and he didn't mean to push further.

Just.

He didn't want the conversation to end on this note.

So way too late, when the silence had stretched on for far too long, Minseok added one last thing.

"There's no shame in that. If you're content like this. It's your life."

He buried himself into the blanket, inhaling the foreign scent clinging to the cushion, and he almost didn't hear the belated, whispered reply.

"Thanks."


	11. Chapter 11 - [Copper]

Chanyeol wasn't allowed to leave the forge anymore. Sure, he could stick to Jongdae instead, but if he had to choose between attending some boring political meetings and staying at the forge, well, the decision was pretty easy.

Even though he was kind of jealous of Minseok spending so much time with Jongdae.

Well, they said that the culprit would be found soon, and then things would go back to normal. For the time being, Chanyeol was advised to stay under the supervision of Kyungsoo. Neither of them had mentioned the little metal animal someone had left for him, displaying that maybe the forge wasn't nearly as safe as people took it to be. Maybe Kyungsoo didn't want to embarrass himself. Or lose Chanyeol as a helping hand.

"This part. Can you make it?"

Chanyeol followed the small, but calloused finger running over the paper, tracing out a technical sketch that depicted... something.

"What is it?" Chanyeol asked automatically, and Kyungsoo didn't even look up from the construction.

"Does it matter? Just tell me if you can make this or not. It's okay if you can't."

He was starting to understand why Kyungsoo was having no scholars of his own.

"I can't just make something without understanding what it's supposed to do," Chanyeol sighed, but took a closer look at the drawing, anyway, turning it a little to read the neatly written annotations. He knew by now that all the odd parts he'd seen around the forge were inventions by Kyungsoo, some more functional than others. Most of them were unfinished because Kyungsoo either lacked parts or realized at some point that things weren't working out as planned. He wasn't too bummed about it and instead used the stray parts to invent new things. Right now, Chanyeol was looking at such a hybrid. The machine clearly implemented the strange, silver knot of cables that had been hanging off a shelf ever since Chanyeol set foot inside the forge for the first time. He also recognized the little filtering container in the odd form of a pyramid. He'd always wondered what that was for. The part Kyungsoo wanted him to make, however, was a new one entirely, and it looked like a metal link between multiple parts, with three differently shaped outputs that molded around them. Nothing too spectacular, really, but that wasn't the point.

"I need more than this to work with."

Kyungsoo actually rolled his eyes.

"What more do you need? If you can't do it, just tell me. I'll figure something out."

Despite his emotional, slightly hot-headed nature, Chanyeol wasn't known to be impudent towards his masters. His parents or teachers? Sure. But not the master of a forge. He had been taught better than this. Still, Kyungsoo may own this forge, and he may be a genius engineer and inventor, but he simply wasn't a smith, and it showed.

"There's only two perspectives, front and back. I need to know what it looks from above and beyond, as well," Chanyeol explained, moving on to the notes. "If you can't tell me what it's supposed to do, I won't know what sort of temperature or pressure this part needs to withstand, or whether it will be exposed to friction of whatever kind. If I simply recreate something according to these measurements, the part might end up looking pretty, but be ultimately useless. I don't want to be responsible for this thing not to work."

Kyungsoo looked at him with wide eyes and unapologetic surprise. It was a little strange and uncalled for, and quite frankly, Chanyeol was expecting him to get over the shock and kick him out or anything. To his own surprise, Kyungsoo huffed, and there was the ghost of a smile tugging on his lips.

"You have such a bad attitude," he commented, but it lacked any venom.

"I don't want to hear this from you," he replied before he could help it, and Kyungsoo tugged at Chanyeol’s goggles, letting the band snap against his head.

"How did any master put up with you?" he asked as he walked towards a shelf, pulling back a curtain made of screws and mothers.

"My master liked me just fine," Chanyeol pouted, pulling the goggles down to rest around his neck instead. "I actually passed my test, too, you know? Technically, I'm my own master."

"Oh, really?" Kyungsoo asked as he placed something on the table, carelessly flinging his own construction aside. He sounded mildly surprised at most, and when Chanyeol looked up, he saw the glint in his eyes. That was not the face of someone being annoyed or seeing him as a threat in any way. If anything, Kyungsoo seemed delighted over the idea that Chanyeol might actually be able to create whatever he needed.

"Alright then, master smith, here are the parts that need to be linked."

With furrowed brows, Chanyeol stared at the things Kyungsoo had scattered over his work bench.

"You can touch them, no worries. I need the cables to carry a high amount of energy and store it inside the container. From there, it flows down into this part, off to the rest of the construction. The flow needs to be regulated. On both ends, if possible."

"What kind of energy? Electricity?" Chanyeol asked, and Kyungsoo waved him off.

"Something like that. Condensed electricity. It's pretty powerful."

"Okay..." Chanyeol trailed off, aware that this was all that Kyungsoo was willing to give right now. "Can I have some time?"

"Sure. Take all the time you need. I'll be in the adjacent room."

With this, Kyungsoo left him alone, taking Thoven with him, just in case. Thankful for the space and quiet, Chanyeol got to work immediately. It felt like Kyungsoo was actively trying to keep his mind off things by giving him a special challenge. And Chanyeol didn't want to disappoint him.

He turned the pieces around, measured them and made his own sketches and calculations to figure out the best way to tackle this vague request.

While he took a small break, sipping on a cup of tea, he was struck by a random realization. If Kyungsoo wasn't a smith, then surely someone had to have made these strange parts for him. They were clearly custom-made. The cup was placed aside and he turned the pieces around, searching for something particular this time. They were obviously finely crafted, and if there was any other smith in this town, Chanyeol would love to meet that person.

There was an unfamiliar signature on the silver cables, and another one on the container. With a pensive hum, Chanyeol traced them, and copied them to his notes.

 

* * *

"You seem pretty relaxed about this entire thing."

"Hm?" Chanyeol asked distractedly as Junmyeon gently ushered them down the hallway.

"You know what I'm talking about," Minseok sighed, and Chanyeol shrugged. He couldn't help making things a little hard for Minseok, simply because he refused to be the one doing all the talking and reading all the signs all on his own.

"The assassination attempts. This was the second one, after all..." Minseok trailed off with a tiny hue of petulance. Junmyeon had brought him along to escort Chanyeol from the forge back to their rooms, but there was no way he was here on his own volition.

"You think so? The first one could have been an accident, too," Chanyeol shrugged again, and Minseok shot him a dubious look.

"And you believe that," he stated rather than asked.

"It's not like we have any proof," Chanyeol said, and then they entered a fancy-looking, empty hall.

"Jongdae will join us in a moment. He's still in a meeting," Junmyeon explained, taking a seat in one of the plush armchairs pushed towards a wall. Chanyeol, who had spent his entire day sitting and brooding over Kyungsoo's inventions, preferred to stand. Minseok didn't take a seat either, and simply kept staring at him, as if Chanyeol was withholding any information from him.

"Are assassination attempts a thing in Sylvell?"

Chanyeol took a few steps, simply to hear the way his shoes clacked on the shiny floor.

"Not really. You really do think Revria is the only civilized nation there is, don't you?" Chanyeol asked. It wasn't like him, to be so direct. He wondered why Minseok, of all people, tickled that nasty side of his.

"They're the most common in Revria."

That came as a surprise. It must have shown on Chanyeol's face, because Minseok took an unconscious step back, eyes flitting over expensive tapestries to avoid Chanyeol's eyes.

"Since I'm of no importance, it's not like I had anything to worry about. A distant aunt of mine disappeared one day, after getting elected as a mayor. That's it."

"That's... awful," Chanyeol breathed out. Revria was known as an advanced, but arrogant nation, easily the most emotionally distant one, but this...

"Is it? I mean. Sure. It's just how things work, isn't it?" Minseok asked, crossing his arms. He looked more uncomfortable than confident, to be honest. "No matter how much people delude themselves into being lawful and ethical, secretly, every society is corrupt."

"You're... just as negative as I thought you'd be," Chanyeol said slowly, and Minseok reacted with nothing but a joyless grin.

"And you're every bit as naive as I thought you'd be."

Chanyeol huffed, slowly walking around, never really distancing himself from Minseok. Junmyeon silently observed them, like he usually did.

"It's not like I'm not scared, you know?" Chanyeol asked, pausing to turn towards Minseok. "I used to live entirely without worries for my body, because my blessing would keep me healthy, no matter what. It healed even crushed bones within a small timeframe. I could touch glowing hot metal like it was nothing. Now I can burn my hand at a hot teapot. It's ridiculous. I start to sweat if the sun shines into my room all morning. The heat used to be a part of me. Now I feel... fragile."

He had no idea where any of this was coming from, but for some reason, he was feeling a little lost and bitter.

Minseok looked a little taken aback, but also pensive and kind of sad. He lowered his gaze, and mumbled a reply so quietly that it almost went unheard by Chanyeol.

"Me too."

When Chanyeol didn't comment on it, neither attacking nor laughing at him, Minseok sighed, ruffling his already messy, black hair.

"When I sit at my desk, my feet are freezing if I don't wear any socks. When I open the window, I get goosebumps at the slightest breeze, and when I go to bed, the blanket is cold."

Chanyeol wasn't moving as he soaked up the other's words, the presence of Junmyeon entirely forgotten.

"It's just little things," Minseok hummed, closing his eyes for a moment, "but it's a constant reminder that a part of me is gone. Feeling cold is so... uncomfortable."

"But it's not gone entirely," Chanyeol said gently, both for his and Minseok's sake. "It saved me from the poison. It's still there, it's just subdued."

Minseok threw his head back with a sigh, and a resounding creaking sound had both of them freeze.

"Did you hear that?" Chanyeol asked, and Junmyeon was already back to his feet when another crack followed, and then Minseok's gaze snapped up to one of the pompous chandeliers right above his head.    
If Chanyeol hadn't been standing so close to him already, he wouldn't have made it.    
Like this, he managed to tackle Minseok down before the chandelier met the ground with the sound of shattering glass drowning out everything.

He vaguely heard Junmyeon yell something, call for someone, his eyes glued to the ceiling in search of a culprit sitting in between the main beams.

Chanyeol didn't hear him, not even when the glass stopped rattling and Minseok's heavy breathing was all that filled his ears.

Suddenly, he thought back to the poisoned food, the salad. A very typically Revrian dish.

It wasn't him who was being targeted, but Minseok.


	12. Chapter 12 - [Gold]

Jongdae was furious. He was seething, really, and for once, he didn't bother hiding it.

"I want the castle to be searched. We are not having an assassin roam around freely and allow him to threaten the life of someone we should be protecting!"

"Yes, sir," the soldier said stiffly, and he felt Junmyeon's hand on his shoulder.

"They're trying, Jongdae-"

"I know!" Jongdae snapped, shaking him off. "Which is why I'm saying that we need to keep trying and maybe take this a little more seriously. _This is top priority right now_."

"Understood," the soldier was quick to reply, scampering off. For all the jokes people liked to make on Jongdae's expense, they always obeyed without questioning when he was truly angry. Which was good because it meant that Jongdae wasn't ruling complete idiots.

"Maybe you should retreat for today," Junmyeon suggested, purposefully keeping his voice calm as to not provoke his temper any further. "Stay with the other two for the night, get some rest-"

But Jongdae wasn't having it.

"I am not going to go to sleep and pretend this isn't happening right under our noses," he hissed, sharply turning around to leave with purpose.

Junmyeon was saying something, but Jongdae wasn't listening. He couldn't forget the shocked expression on Minseok's face, no matter how hard he tried. Minseok, who had been nothing but kind to him, despite his vaguely distant responses. Who had never been involved in politics of any kind, and had now become a target.

He refused to accept this, and if his suspicions were true...

...well, Jongdae could easily get even angrier.  


* * *

  
"You think this is funny? Is this a joke to you?!"

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

Jongdae slammed his palm on the table, sending a few objects to meet the ground in a clattering sound that drowned in the sound of his own voice.

"Don't fuck with me now! He has nothing to do with anything!" he barked, not even a little intimidated by the cold stare he received in return. "If you don't believe me, then fine, fuck it. But don't you dare put a finger on Minseok-"

A short, haughty laugh cut him off, and then Jongdae was tugged forwards by an iron grip on his shirt, fisting the collar and making it hard to breathe. The sickeningly sweet voice stood in stark contrast to the harsh grip.

"You think this is some sort of revenge?"

Jongdae didn't back down, stubbornly keeping their gazes locked even as he was clawing his fingers into the table to keep his balance.

"You think I'm as petty as you? An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth? You think that's it?"

"I did not do it," Jongdae gritted out slowly, and was pushed away, only barely holding himself up.

"Sure you didn't. Either way, I have nothing to do with this. And now get lost."

"You're awfully relaxed about this, considering that Minseok isn't the only one who could get hurt in this-"

He moved in a flash, jumped to his feet and around the table, smashing Jongdae into a wall hard enough to make the already dim lights flicker precariously.

" _Are you threatening me right now?_ "

The voice was low, the syllables slow and dripping with danger.

"You know I'm not," Jongdae replied lowly, but finally lowered his gaze. Submitting.

He couldn't afford any more bruises. Minseok had already seen too many.

"Do I, Jongdae? Do I know that?"

His submission drained the tension from the overall situation, leaving behind nothing but a burnt, black layer of bitterness.

"Just get out of my face, will you?"

Tiredness.

Resignation, too.

Jongdae felt those, as well.

He did leave the room after that.

The last words hanging in the air were coated in all of these feelings, bound to echo around the flickering shadows for the rest of seemingly endless night.

 

_"How do you expect me to believe you?"_


	13. Chapter 13 - [Silver]

Jongdae was in a bad mood. He had already been extremely curt when they went to bed the night before, but it seemed like a few hours of sleep weren't enough to dissolve whatever had him act so quiet and somber.

Minseok wasn't sure whether it was sympathy for him or whether he was merely worrying about the political impact of someone attempting to murder his husband in his own castle. If it  _ was  _ sympathy, Minseok would rather have him act indifferent about it. It was hard enough to forget about the fact that someone was after his life - Chanyeol's pitying, awkward glances were enough of a reminder already. And no matter how hard he thought about it, he had no idea who would want him dead. Or rather, he had no idea who would want him dead so badly they'd pay a large amount of money to make it happen.

 

They dropped Chanyeol off at the doctor's office, and with his awkward attempts at small talk out of the way, silence settled among them. Junmyeon was rattling down the day's schedule, keeping his tone subdued to suit the atmosphere. Jongdae thanked him by at least attempting to smile.

Minseok sat through a meeting with some merchant representative, and after that, a handsome, vaguely familiar face greeted them in the hallway, telling Jongdae that his presence was requested. At this point, Minseok had seen way too many faces in a short period of time, so there really was no telling who it was, and Minseok didn’t care. He simply stayed behind with Junmyeon, scribbling into his sketchbook. Over the past few days, he and Junmyeon had been alone quite a bit, whenever Jongdae was attending matters too private for Minseok to overhear. He was assured multiple times that in the future, they would gladly include him. They were more awkward about it than Minseok, really. He didn't care about politics and ruling a country. Staying behind to sketch was fine by him, and Junmyeon quickly realized that there was no need for small talk when it came to Minseok. They usually spent their time in comfortable silence, with neither being overly interested in the other. Not that Junmyeon would ever admit that - it was his job to be social, after all.

When Jongdae returned, he was sporting a huge stain all over his chest, and Minseok briefly wondered whether someone had dowsed their wine over him out of anger. Jongdae simply muttered something about needing a change of clothes.

This day seemed to be going great for both of them.

It was quiet in their rooms, which is why Minseok heard him sigh behind the closed door. After a few seconds, Jongdae stepped out of his room in fresh clothing, looking tired, but also determined. When he met Minseok's gaze, he shot him a quick, tight-lipped smile, and Minseok returned it, trying just as much as him.

Jongdae took another deep breath, and when he exhaled, his posture relaxed.

"Alright. Let's go and get Chanyeol."

Minseok nodded, and silently followed him. He wanted to cheer him up somehow, but felt like it would be for the best if he simply shut up.

On their way, Junmyeon kept reminding him of their schedule and Jongdae quietly asked him to clear it as well as he could.

"Jongdae. This is important-" Junmyeon began, sounding more tired than anything, but while Jongdae didn't raise his voice, he didn't back down either.

"-and so is our safety. Minseok's safety. There's no need to drag him all over the castle today."

"I can just stay in my room," Minseok offered, not really meaning it. Being alone was the last thing he wanted right now, and Jongdae (and Chanyeol) were the only people he somewhat knew and could trust. At least they made him feel safer than being in the presence of some unknown bodyguard.

"Only if my schedule is clear. Junmyeon,  _ please _ ," Jongdae added, eyes still boring through his assistant, who relented with a small sigh.

"I'll notify the people in charge. Still, the meeting with your uncle is obligatory."

Instead of smiling gratefully or thanking Junmyeon, Jongdae's expression remained cloudy.

"Of course," he trailed off, sticking a smile on his face way too late, and Minseok wondered what the relationship between Jongdae and his uncle was like. He made a mental note to save that question for a more appropriate time.

When Chanyeol emerged from the doctor's office a while later, he looked cheerful enough. Jongdae still requested to talk to the doctor, and with Chanyeol's permission, all three husbands gathered around the low table in the makeshift office.

Apparently, Chanyeol was fine, but there was still no telling whether his memories would be able to be recovered or not. It was hard for Minseok to follow along with the Selven doctor - his accent was definitely less strong than that of, say, Yixing, but medical terms had a habit of flying over his head.

On their way back to the forge, Chanyeol gushed about how nice and young the doctor was, and to Minseok's dismay, Jongdae seemed receptive to it.

"Right? No academic this young has any right to look so handsome and fit," Jongdae added lightly, and Chanyeol tripped over his own feet.

"You think he's handsome?" he asked, his naturally deep voice sounding a little too high to be casual. Jongdae just chuckled.

"You don't?"

"I mean. Jongin is... he's-"

"I'm just messing with you," Jongdae dismissed him, and Chanyeol relaxed visibly. "What was the examination like though? I heard Selven doctors have pretty unusual methods of examining patients - at least judging by what Yixing told me."

Minseok silently followed along, listening to Chanyeol being a general mess around Jongdae, and Jongdae indulging him. Being jealous would be all kinds of selfish and conceited, so Minseok told himself that he wasn't, that he was better than this.

When they dropped Chanyeol off in Kyungsoo's care, Jongdae's playful attitude faded away almost immediately, and the silence returned between them. It was sad, yes, but a tiny part of Minseok felt a spark of satisfaction. Jongdae had only  _ acted  _ brightly in front of Chanyeol. The tired, slightly moody him was the real him right then, and Minseok was allowed to see it. It felt like sharing a secret of sorts, one that Chanyeol was excluded of.

Minseok quietly lamented over the distressed, desperate person Jongdae had turned him into while Junmyeon led the way to the heart of the castle, where the rulers of the castle were residing.

 

Minseok had seen Jongdae's uncle before. Both him and his wife currently ruled the country, so it was only natural that they would be present at the banquet before their bond was formed. Outside of that, however, Minseok had only seen him or his wife once or twice - it was obvious that Jongdae was his own person, living in a different part of the castle and taking care of the matters they had no time for.

It wasn't that his uncle was distant or unfriendly. In fact, he seemed to be a great leader, but not stuck up or old-fashioned. He had made it very clear that he wanted Minseok and Chanyeol to stop bowing and easen up on the formalities after the bond was completed. Chanyeol had been nervous about that, but Jongdae had assured him that he meant it. Back then, Minseok had assumed that his relationship with his parents - because that's what they were, considering that Jongdae's real parents weren't around anymore - was good. Jongdae looked anything but happy as he sat next to Minseok though, staring at the table in front of them. The small waiting room was empty, and Minseok was already making a sketch of it.

Usually, Jongdae would get work done in situations like these, taking notes and reading over documents, because he was notoriously forgetful. Now, Jongdae just sat there, and Minseok didn't want to be caught staring, so he occupied himself by sketching the ceilings and corners of the room, using the basic structure but adding beautifully arches, nooks and crannies complimenting the otherwise flat-looking window.

Usually, the silence between him and Jongdae wasn't this... uncomfortable.

When Minseok glanced up, he actually caught Jongdae looking at his drawing. This might sound silly, but he didn't usually do that. At all. He was usually too busy focusing on his own work.    
Maybe it was a mix of surprise and embarrassment that pulled the question out of him.

"What do you think?"

Jongdae glanced at him, and then back at the sketch. His brows furrowed lightly as he considered it, resembling the way he sometimes looked at complex documents.

"It looks pretty elegant," he began, and Minseok wanted to be alone, to agree with himself on what he was feeling right now, because his head felt cluttered.

"Maybe a little  _ too  _ elegant? Some of the details seem a little too fancy."

Oh.

There was no denying that Minseok was a little hurt, because even if he refused to show it, he was just as vulnerable to criticism on his art as most people.

"I mean... that's kind of the point, right?" he stated, trying his best not to sound petulant. "Indulging in elegant designs for waiting people to look at before they get to see the owner of the castle."

"To intimidate people?" Jongdae asked, and Minseok already told himself to never ask what he was thinking of his sketches ever again. Upon seeing his unhappy expression, Jongdae backpedalled a bit.

"Ah. I'm not saying your sketch is bad or anything."

He wasn't flailing, like Chanyeol would be doing now. He didn't even seem like he was picking his words overly carefully. He was simply thinking, and Minseok waited, albeit in a guarded manner.

"I just think that it's not really the type of architecture people would appreciate around here."

"Because nobody here cares about architecture," Minseok said before he could help it. He wasn't usually this snarky. Jongdae huffed, and threw him a small smile that spoke of mild interest.

"You haven't seen much of the castle yet, have you?"

There was definitely a smidge of condescension in his voice now, one that Minseok hadn't ever heard him use before. It made him acutely aware that he had probably insulted Jongdae and should apologize.

"Architecture is a representation of people's needs," Jongdae continued, sounding rather relaxed as he leaned back into his seat. "Just because there's no frills and swirls to it, doesn't make it any less of a professional, premeditated process."

Minseok looked around the room, unable to shut down the doubts he was feeling, but Jongdae remained patient.

"Maybe it would do you some good to try and understand the mentality and architecture of this place. Might broaden your horizon a bit."

After a short pause, he added, "remind me to show you the terrace someday."

Before Minseok could follow up with a clarification or apology of any kind, Junmyeon entered the room and whisked Jongdae away to meet his uncle.

While waiting for him alongside Junmyeon, he spent the entire time inspecting the room and trying to understand what kind of philosophy might possibly be behind the design of it. What the rooms might say about Berien people. About Jongdae.


	14. Chapter 14 - [Copper]

Chanyeol tried his very best not to feel like a caged animal. Or a kid that's dropped off at someone's house. He told himself that if given the choice, he'd spend most of his days at the forge, anyway, so this really wasn't a restriction in any way.

While this was true though, the childish part of him wanted the choice to leave, like a cat trying to claw its way through a door, not necessarily because it wanted to leave, but because it wanted the door to be open.

To distract himself, he worked on the model Kyungsoo had asked him to make, for that mystery project he refused to talk about. Looking at it reminded him of the signature he had found on the parts, and  _ that  _ reminded him of the letter he had sent to Sehun. He really wanted to visit the post office to check whether Sehun had replied already. Maybe he should ask Jongdae whether he could change his current post box number to one of Jongdae's offices, so the letters would be delivered there. Jongdae didn't seem like he would mind. Still, he'd been very different and moody all day, so maybe he'd save the question for another time.

With a sigh, Chanyeol molded the clay model, scraping around the edges to create the shape he had in mind. It was nearly done, so he could get to actually creating a cast of it soon.

 

The assembly of fine metal cogs and glass marbles that dangled off the ceiling softly rattled when someone entered. Instinctively, Chanyeol put down his work to greet whoever was here to see Kyungsoo. He really had become way too used to being a trainee.

"Hello, what can we- oh." he began, and realized that the face he was looking at was familiar. It was the tall, haughty-looking guy from the masquerade ball, the one Jongdae didn't seem to like a whole lot.

"Hi," the guy (was it Tao?) said, and despite his casual greeting and posture, his presence was almost too large for the forge, making it feel strangely cramped, despite him not being much taller than Chanyeol. He might not be wearing a costume, but his clothes remained strange and exotic, with all sorts of belts peeking out under his almost inconspicuous jacket and an equally fancy bag slung around his shoulder. There were things fixed to the belts peeking out, things that Chanyeol couldn't identify but would guess to be tools or weapons, and combined with the (purposefully) messy, bleached blonde hair and the curled lips, Tao had something... wild to him. Chanyeol didn't know whether he liked the way his eyes sparkled while he ran a heavy gaze over him.

"You look good, covered in dirt," he quipped, and Chanyeol instinctively wiped his cheeks with the back of his hand, regretting that he hadn't checked his appearance after cleaning up his workplace. The comment sounded lewd, and Chanyeol decided to ignore it.

"Tao, wasn't it?"

The guy strode around the forge with easy confidence.

"Almost. Zitao. Is Kyungsoo around?"

Chanyeol got to his feet, discreetly rubbing his dirty hands over his apron.

"Sure, let me get him-"

"Your shoes again?" Kyungsoo blankly asked from the doorway. He wasn't usually so quick to show up, and Chanyeol wondered whether he really was going out of his way to look after Chanyeol, with an assassin on the loose.

"Yep," Zitao agreed easily, placing his bag on one of the work counters, his voice laced with faux disappointment. "And Luhan's. I'm starting to think you're playing favourites and we're not part of yours."

"You're just reckless-"

"You're fixing  _ shoes _ ?" Chanyeol asked before he could help it, entirely weirded out by the mere concept of a genius like Kyungsoo wasting his time on shoes like an ordinary shoemaker. Zitao snickered, and Kyungsoo shot him a withering glare, making Chanyeol take a step back really quickly.

"Uh, do you want me to help?" he asked, and Kyungsoo snorted.

"You wouldn't be of any help," he said snippily, snatching the bag and disappearing into his private work room. Chanyeol knew better than to be offended - Kyungsoo's tongue was much sharper than his intentions most of the time, and he liked to keep to himself a lot while working. It was an attitude that harmonized surprisingly well with his own.

Now he was alone again with Zitao, who idly walked around the workshop, looking at this and that, sometimes picking up objects to inspect them further. It was like he was silently asking Chanyeol to complain about him touching things, so he didn't.

He still kept his eyes on him, though, because ignoring Zitao was close to impossible, both because of his presence and the fact that Chanyeol hadn't seen or interacted with that many people the past days.

"How did you manage to ruin your shoes?" he asked, and Zitao shot him a quick glance before going back to tracing out a mechanical replica of a snowball on a shelf.

"By wearing them."

Chanyeol's unimpressed look only got a grin out of Zitao.

"Useless answers to useless questions," he added with a one-sided shrug, and Chanyeol tried not to pout.

"Fine then. What is it that you do? For a living?" he asked, slightly annoyed but unwilling to back down.

"Pass," Zitao hummed, and Chanyeol gave up with an eye roll.

"Fine, whatever. I see why Jongdae isn't too fond of you."

At the mention of Jongdae, he perked up. Or maybe he realized that Chanyeol wasn't going to entertain him any longer if he kept refusing him.

"Chenchen? He  _ loves  _ me," Zitao stated with a tone so ambiguous that there was absolutely no telling whether he was serious or not.

"Like a trip to the dentist or more like a nasty stomach ache?" Chanyeol asked, and well, maybe being around Kyungsoo wasn't all that good for his attitude. Zitao raised his brow at that but instead of getting angry, he seemed to grow more amused.

"Huh," he began, seriously entertaining the question as he walked in between the work benches, making Chanyeol nervous. He wished the other would finally take a seat.

"Like losing sleep, I'd say," Zitao hummed, stopping next to Chanyeol to look over the little clay model and the written calculations. "Like a bad habit he'd like to get rid off, but knows he can't. Because it's necessary if he wants to achieve great things."

He glanced at Chanyeol, who just knew that he was being toyed with, but couldn't resist the bait either way.

"And deep down," Zitao all but purred, leaning his weight on one hand to get even closer to Chanyeol, "he knows he doesn't nearly hate it as much as he's trying to convince himself he does."

Chanyeol didn't have a witty reply to that, and after two very long seconds, Zitao let it go as his attention flickered over to another object sitting on Chanyeol's table.

"Don't touch that one-" Chanyeol began, but it was already too late, and Zitao turned the tiny little bird in his hand.

"Did you make this?" he asked, and Chanyeol felt his ears grow hot. Which was ridiculous, because Zitao had no idea that Chanyeol placed it on his chair every time he left, or how he was disappointed whenever he entered the forge and found it to be still there.

"No, it just magically appeared," Chanyeol dryly replied, his mood quite sour at this point. He definitely wanted his solace back at this point. He'd had enough of Zitao.

To his surprise, Zitao didn't comment on that, and after another, long and unreadable look, he placed the little thing back on the table with deceptive care.

"Hey, move your ass over here and try them on," Kyungsoo called from the doorway, and the stupid smile was plastered back on Zitao's face almost immediately, the bird forgotten as he strode over to join Kyungsoo.

With a petulant look, Chanyeol grabbed the bird, as if to check whether Zitao had broken anything. He wasn't supposed to touch it. It was meant for... someone else. For the person who had left him the mechanical rabbit. Whoever it was.

It was silly, really. Surely he was thinking too much into this.

And yet he was unreasonably annoyed when he realized that the bird was gone shortly after Zitao had left. It hadn't even taken him a long time to make, and yet he was pissed that Zitao had taken it. What a complete jerk this guy was.


	15. Chapter 15 - [Silver]

Jongdae's mood finally brightened up a little. After the tense, previous day that had ended in them silently slipping under the covers - and Minseok entertaining the fantasy of falling asleep to Jongdae's arm around his waist (which was more distracting than anything, to be honest). When he woke up the next day, Jongdae was already sitting at their table, eating breakfast. He looked slightly more refreshed and the smile he shot him was much warmer already.

"Hey."

"Morning," Minseok rasped out, sinking into one of the chairs. Unlike him, Jongdae seemed perfectly awake.

"How long have you been up?"

"Not that long," Jongdae said dismissively, digging into his bowl of rice and vegetables. "You weren't left alone."

Minseok's poker face remained solid, but his embarrassment probably shined through his words.

"You're saying it so awkwardly. Like you positioned some bodyguard in your room to watch me sleep."

Jongdae chuckled at this.

"Sorry. That's not it. I just didn't want you to worry," he hummed, wordlessly filling up Minseok's glass. He seemed almost too calm and balanced, like the previous days had never taken place.

"I'm sorry, too," Minseok mumbled, reaching for a slice of bread.

"Huh? What for?" Jongdae asked, watching the way Minseok helped himself to the little bowl of scrambled eggs after a bit of hesitation.

"Just for the trouble you're going through right now," Minseok said vaguely and, even more vaguely, he added, "and for being so insensitive yesterday."

Jongdae shot him a surprised look. For a moment, he simply stared at Minseok, who was nibbling on his bread half-heartedly. It was as if he was waiting for his words to make any sense.

Then he reached for a bowl of salad, making it a point to dig his spoon into it and shoving it into his mouth, chewing with ostentation.

Before Minseok could act confused, Jongdae started to put salad into his empty bowl.

"See? It's all good. You should dig in, we got a long day ahead of us."

Again, Minseok hesitated. The first few bites he ate agonizingly slowly, chewing carefully, dragging them out. But Jongdae was right. The salad wasn't poisoned.

"I'm sorry for being a dick yesterday," Jongdae said nonchalantly, but the fact that he wasn't meeting his eye was telling.

"It's okay. It was my fault, really," Minseok replied, and before they could venture into more awkward apologies, Chanyeol scampered into the room, looking like he had literally rolled out of bed. Unlike Minseok, he didn't even think of avoiding the salad, and dug right in.

"You know, I was told to have someone look after you," Jongdae began, watching him with a fond kind of exasperation. "And I'm starting to agree with that."

Chanyeol mumbled something that vaguely sounded like a question, making a half-hearted attempt to pat down his impressively messy hair.

"Don't worry, the person will stay in the forge with you," Jongdae added, ate another spoonful of rice, chewed and swallowed before he continued. "I was thinking of Luhan."

"Luhan?" Chanyeol asked, and Minseok stared at a stray piece of salad he had just spat on the table with barely concealed disgust.

"Why, you have a problem with him? You  _ know  _ him?" Jongdae asked, and those questions were in the wrong order, if Minseok was concerned. He'd never heard of a Luhan yet, and he'd seen way more of the castle and its inhabitants than Chanyeol had.

"I- he's a friend of Zitao, isn't he?" Chanyeol asked, looking sullen.

"He is," Jongdae said, slowly and dubiously, and Chanyeol explained it before he could ask.

"He showed up at the forge yesterday. He's kind of a dick. Zitao, I mean."

Instead of laughing, Jongdae looked almost worried for a moment.

"He did? I mean. Okay. Yeah. Yeah, he can be a bit of a dick."

Minseok shot him a dubious look of his own, and Jongdae hurried to put a smile on his face again.

"He's always been kind of a jerk, even when we were kids. If you wanna shut him up, just don't engage with him. Anyway, Luhan is much nicer, promise."

Chanyeol remained unhappy, but the way he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes looked hardly threatening.

"You wanna stay with him today?"

Minseok turned his attention back to Jongdae.

"What, is being around Luhan safer than being with you?" he asked. It came out kinda weird, and Minseok wasn't even sure what he was trying to say.

"Well. Luhan is definitely more suited to look after people than me, but... you're right. Let's not give him too much to do. We got Junmyeon, anyway."

"Junmyeon? What's he gonna do to protect you guys? Clear the assassin's schedule and send him home?" Chanyeol asked skeptically, and while Minseok wouldn't have said it like that, he'd be a liar to say he disagreed. Jongdae just chuckled at that.

"Don't let him hear that. You seem to forget that we're the only ones with sealed blessings. Junmyeon is pretty powerful, actually. He's not by my side for his excellent secretary skills."

"He has powers, too?" Chanyeol spluttered. "What is it he does?"

Jongdae refused to tell them, probably to tease Chanyeol.

Minseok was simply glad that the question over who he would be staying with was off the table.

  
  


"Can I ask you something?"

Jongdae looked up from his written notes. Minseok had waited until Junmyeon was out of hearing range and that had taken up most of the day. He could have saved the question for later, when they shared a bed, but Minseok would rather not risk making that awkward. If it wasn't awkward already; he wasn't too sure about that.

"Is it.. against the social etiquette to use your powers here?"

Jongdae seemed surprised by this question, but not upset.

"What makes you think so?"

"Well, I haven't seen anyone use it. And I heard this country has the highest amount of blessed inhabitants," Minseok stated factually.

"Is it being used a lot in Revria?" Jongdae asked instead of a reply, and Minseok shrugged.

"They're rather rare, our blessings. But if someone had one, everyone usually knew. Using it in daily life is sort of a given. People like to show off."

Jongdae hummed, tapping the back of his pen against the parchment.

"I see. Well, you see, showing off isn't exactly a sought after trait here," he shrugged. "In no sense of the word. Parading around your powers makes you look like a dick more than anything here. People save their energy for emergencies. Unless they're artists or actually use their power in their job."

Minseok nodded. To him, who had rarely ever used his powers outside of training rooms, it seemed like the wiser decision.

"Who else has a blessing? Besides Junmyeon?"

Jongdae shot him a shrewd look.

"Why are you asking?"

Minseok shrugged. It was honestly just harmless curiosity. It wasn't like him to feel it, much less act on it, but with Jongdae, he felt safe. Like it was alright to ask.

And Jongdae didn't disappoint.

"Hm, let's see," he trailed off, placing his pen down as he thought about it. "Aside from Junmyeon, there's my aunt, of course, and Yixing. Quite a few of our guards and doctors, obviously. And... our main engineer, Kyungsoo - Chanyeol's mentor at the workshop? If you remember him."

"I do," Minseok said without hesitation. The young man with the owlish eyes and brusque attitude had merely spared him a glance, but he was definitely a persona Minseok wouldn't forget easily. Somehow, he liked the idea of him having a blessing, because it felt familiar. Having aspirations and a job presumably unrelated to whatever gift he had. Minseok found that inspiring.

"Does Zitao also have a skill?" he asked, following a random chain of thoughts. Jongdae seemed a little taken aback by the question.

"Him? He... does. Why are you asking about him?"

Minseok shrugged.

"No particular reason."

With that, their conversation was over, and Minseok was left to ponder as they were led into an office, joining a few important-looking politicians around a table.

 

Whenever Minseok was allowed to join in on a meeting, he felt like Jongdae's pet. Like a dumb little doll decorating his side. He usually tried to make up for the uncomfortable feeling by subtly, silently sketching. This time, however, all three nations were present, and with the rulers being absent, Jongdae was the center of authority. Minseok stared at the table most of the time, listening to introductions and summaries and numbers. It would be boring to just stare into nothingness for who knew how many hours, so he decided to humor himself and try to follow along, or rather, to figure out what was being talked about. It was something about trade, about the specific goods each country had to offer and which nation needed which goods. The overall dilemma seemed to be that Revria wanted to import immense amounts of ore to uphold and expand their industry. It made sense - all the pompous buildings, vehicles and overall technology ate a ton of resources. Now the kind of ore they needed the most was found in Sylvell, Chanyeol's home. The nation that consisted almost entirely of mountains.   
  


The issue was, and that Minseok understood pretty easily, that Sylvell only wanted to trade with Berien. They had no use for fancy machines and vehicles, as they relied on their own technology that was custom-made to support their lives within the mountains. They hardly had any even streets, and room was too sparse for whatever indulgent machinery Revria had to offer. Sure, they could exchange it for luxury goods, but essential needs came first, and what Sylvell needed was coal. And oil. Resources that only Berien had.   
  


Which meant that Berien - the slightly poor, looked down upon nation, was effectively standing in between the other two, and couldn't simply trade with only themselves in mind. They were used as a link, as a roundabout way for Revria to get what they needed, and insuring that the outcome was fair for all of them was an ongoing battle that didn't end with their peace treaties. It was common knowledge that the Silver War (named after the use of new, deadly weapons made from iron) had essentially been a war started for resources, even if the public had believed differently for a long time. Minseok could see why, and how this situation was delicate, complex, and incredibly draining to face. As the middle ground, Jongdae had arguably the hardest position to defend, and he could see his smile strain under the bad attitude of the Revrian politicians. For the first time ever, Minseok was painfully aware of why Revrians were considered posh and arrogant. They were clad in the frilly and finely tailored robes Minseok had known all his life, coming across as highly educated, but also demanding. Cunning. Minseok had always assumed this kind of attitude to be the default, but seeing Jongdae and the other men and women made him acutely aware of how most of them simply tried to make things work. There were no sharp words, manipulative attitudes and ridiculous bargaining. Sylvell was a simple nation, and Berien a practical one, and Minseok used to take pride in Revria's complexity.

After three hours of daunting discussions, he was tired of it.

When Jongdae ended the meeting, already announcing the next one, Minseok wanted to slam his head into the table or flee the room. Mimicking Jongdae, he did nothing of that, and simply stayed seated while everyone shuffled out. Jongdae was keeping his head held high, keeping eye contact, smiling and nodding at people, while Minseok pretended not to notice the disparaging looks the Revrian politicians had for him. As if he wasn’t one of them anymore.    
As if he’d ever been one of them in the first place.

Junmyeon led everyone out, exchanging polite bits of small talk and closing the door behind him, to continue their conversation outside. The moment they were alone, Jongdae exhaled. Deeply.

Minseok didn't say anything because it really wasn't his place. He was rather ashamed of his own nation right now, and annoyed that Jongdae had to deal with this on a regular basis.

"When will they stop being so greedy?" Jongdae asked, voice quiet and eyes closing as he buried his face in his hands. All his confidence and brave aura had vanished in the blink of an eye.

"They're so much more advanced than us already. Why aren't they better than this? They should be pretty much self-sustaining at this point. Why do they keep on wanting more?"

It took Minseok a while to voice out an answer to that. Not because he didn't have one, but because saying it out loud felt like a confession.

"They're selfish," Minseok said quietly, eyes still trained on the table. "Narrow-minded. And they're raised to think that it's the only way to achieve anything in life, because anyone with a similar kind of mindset would quickly become a rival. They must stay impenetrable and on top of everything at all times."

In a way, Minseok couldn't deny the logic behind that concept. Looking at it now, it seemed cowardly though.

 

Without a warning, Jongdae placed his head on Minseok's shoulder with a faint sigh. It made him tense up and bristle instinctively, but Minseok refused to give in, and stayed still. This was the first time Jongdae had initiated a touch like this, and he could feel his hair tickle his cheek-

"My uncle says I'm the best choice for this kind of disputes," Jongdae hummed faintly, and Minseok forced himself to focus. "He says it's because unlike him, I'm flexible. I'm good at molding just enough to accommodate people's needs. That I am good at bending."

He sounded tired and just weak. Minseok didn't dare moving around a lot, but he tried to angle his body towards him.   
  


"It's just so exhausting sometimes," Jongdae breathed out, and instead of wasting useless words, Minseok pressed his cheek against Jongdae's hair in silent comfort.

It seemed like Junmyeon had sensed his exhaustion, too, because he didn't return for quite a long time.


	16. Chapter 16 - [Copper]

Chanyeol was tired of having people look after him all day. After the first two attacks on Minseok, nothing had followed, especially not targeting Chanyeol. Still, the assassin was among them and probably laying low, waiting for an opportunity to strike. At least, according to Junmyeon.    
Chanyeol wasn't even the one who had to share a bed, so it really seemed like a tacked on afterthought to protect him like this during the day.

When he entered the forge, Luhan was already there.   
  


Now Chanyeol had pictured Luhan to be similar to Zitao - exotic-looking and kind of mean.

The young man sitting on the ground and playing with Thoven didn't check off any of those boxes. His fluffy, light blonde hair and soft features looked anything but threatening, and unlike Zitao, he was obviously not concerned about getting his hands dirty - Thoven had already managed to smear dirt all over his clothing. 

When Chanyeol closed the door behind him, Thoven perked up and immediately turned towards him, tail wagging in excitement. Luhan looked up at him, all bright eyes and smiles.

"Hi. You're Chanyeol?" he asked, not bothering to get up from the ground, despite Chanyeol effectively towering over him.

"Yeah. Luhan, I guess?" Chanyeol asked awkwardly, patting Thoven's head and absently scratching behind his ears and beneath the collar.

"Yup," Luhan quipped, finally getting to his feet and patting down his pants. They looked way more worn out and dirty than Zitao's, but there were similarities, too.

"Don't mind me, I'll just be hanging out here today. Just do your thing, whatever it is that you do," Luhan shrugged, and threw himself in the only comfy chair the forge had to offer (for customers and guests).

Chanyeol began the day by scrubbing down the work table that Kyungsoo had apparently worked on the night before. He usually saved the cleaning for the end of the day but he wasn't sure what to make of Luhan yet, and the menial activity allowed him to try and engage with him.

"Won't you be bored, sitting around all day?"

To be fair, Luhan already looked like the human embodiment of boredom with how he was stretched out on the chair. His almost dainty features only added a sprinkle of haughtiness to the overall impression, and maybe he and Zitao  _ were  _ similar, after all.

"Hm? Probably. But it's whatever," Luhan dismissed him, suppressing a yawn. "Don't be alarmed if I doze off. I'm a light sleeper. I’ll be right back if you need me."

"Too early for you?" Chanyeol asked sympathetically. Luhan hummed, curling in on himself a little.

"Didn't sleep last night."

"Oh. Uhm. What I'm about to do might get very loud-"

"Don't care."

Chanyeol blinked, and then shrugged internally.

"Okay," he said out loud and went about his own business, not minding Luhan who did manage to doze off in less than five minutes, breathing deep and steady (and snoring at some point, but before Chanyeol could worry about it, he seemed to realize that his airflow was blocked and adjusted his position).

It seemed a little redundant to have a sleeping bodyguard with him, but Chanyeol wasn't going to complain. It really was simply a formality, anyway. And when it came down to it, Chanyeol was pretty sure that Kyungsoo would be able to fend off attackers just fine.

Still, while he sanded his casting mold, he couldn't stop thinking about Luhan and Zitao. Too many mysteries seemed to surround them, and Chanyeol kept listing the facts he did know, hoping that they would click into place and make sense. All he knew was that they were friends, that they both knew Jongdae, had done so for years, and that they stayed silent about their day job. Judging by their appearances, it would feel right if they had the same occupation. Were they bodyguards? Or something more secretive, like undercover agents or spies, working for the government? It was hard to actually picture that - for all their differences in appearance, both Luhan and Zitao had stuck out to him right away. Something about them made it obvious that they were outsiders. Maybe Jongdae begrudgingly kept them around, because they used to be childhood friends? There were too many options, really, and Chanyeol would love to just let it go. But the way Jongdae acted when they were mentioned was simply strange.

While he poured the hot, liquid iron into the mold, he felt Luhan's eyes resting on him. Chanyeol completed the process and set the steaming piece aside, into a secluded air shaft that would allow the steam to travel to the surface as the mold cooled down. He was sweating, and it was slightly uncomfortable. Something he had yet to get used to. Still, if he had to choose, he'd still choose feeling too hot over feeling cold. Feeling cold was simply... the worst.

"What are you making?"

He looked up and over at Luhan, who looked mildly interested, fingers tapping on the table, betraying his sleepy expression.

"Oh, just some custom-made piece for one of Kyungsoo's inventions," Chanyeol said dismissively, cleaning up the tools he'd used and storing them away.

"What's it do?"

Chanyeol shrugged.

"No idea. He didn't tell me."

"I see," Luhan commented, and it sounded oddly pointed. Meaningful.

Chanyeol shot him a dubious look.

"What? Are you saying he doesn't trust me enough or anything?"

At this, Luhan grinned, and it put a huge dent to the haughty, pretty boy image.

"He trusted you to make this for him. I'd say you're doing good."

It didn't sound overly malicious, and before Chanyeol could overanalyze his words, Luhan continued.

"What's it like, being married to two guys?"

"Huh?" Chanyeol asked dumbly, his tools forgotten for the moment. Luhan's eyes were sparkling, but he didn't seem to be making fun of him, which was all kinds of confusing. It was just a very personal question.

Luhan was still staring at him expectantly, and Chanyeol awkwardly scratched his neck.

"I mean... it's more of a formality, really. Not sure you could call us husbands or anything-"

"And you're not the least bit interested in them? They're both pretty hot, right?" Luhan asked, and shamelessness aside, this was just wrong.

"Isn't Jongdae your friend?"

"So? Means all the more then if I call him hot, right?"

Chanyeol stared at him blankly before going back to scrubbing down his tools with raised brows. Okay. Luhan was  _ that  _ kind of guy.

Apparently, the conversation wasn't over yet for him.

"So?"

"What do you want to hear for me?" Chanyeol whined defensively, and Luhan's steady smile was starting to make him feel cornered.

"Don't you agree that Jongdae is hot?" he asked, smooth and with a hint of mirth. Chanyeol wanted to deny it, but his hesitation answered for him, and then it was already too late to pretend otherwise.

"He's- he is attractive, sure."

"Is he a good kisser?"

This time, Chanyeol actually spluttered.

"How would I know?! We didn't kiss during the ceremony. Or afterwards. Or ever."

Luhan's reply came out stretched thin by disbelief.

"Are you sure...?"

" _ Yes _ ," Chanyeol replied indignantly, and maybe a little too loud.

"Hmm," Luhan hummed thoughtfully, and if Chanyeol wasn't so distracted, he might have noticed the mirth slowly fading from his voice. "You wanna catch up on that soon?"

"How can you talk like this about your friend?" Chanyeol asked back at him, a weak attempt at distracting him. "Jongdae would strangle you if he heard you right now."

Luhan blinked, and pondered it for longer than Chanyeol deemed necessary.

"Maybe? Who knows. I think it depends entirely on your answer."

"Mine?"

Luhan just kept staring at him, and Chanyeol couldn't help picturing it. It was impossible not to, with Luhan having thrown the idea into the room.

Did he want to kiss Jongdae?

The answer was immediate, albeit not coming in the shape of words and rather as a feeling.

_ Yes _ . Sometimes.

Sometimes, when Jongdae looked at him with his smile reaching his eyes, or when he laughed over something silly. It wasn't a continuous desire as much as a sudden urge, a curiosity, an instinct flickering up and then vanishing as quick as it came.

What would it feel like, to kiss Jongdae? Would he hum? Would he like to use his tongue or-

"Ah, you're too obvious, I can hear your thoughts," Luhan commented, and the playfulness was back. Chanyeol's hands flew up to his head in what must be the most stupid reaction ever.

"You can hear my thoughts?" he asked, genuinely terrified. Luhan cackled (yes, actually cackled), and slapped his thigh.

"You're hilarious."

Ears glowing with hot embarrassment, Chanyeol allowed his hands to sink again.

"Much unlike you," he provided lamely. "I don't want to talk about Jongdae anymore. Are you even actual friends?"

" _ You  _ said we were friends," Luhan quipped, and Chanyeol wanted to shake him until he made any kind of sense.

"Well-" he began, ran out of steam, and just closed his mouth again. Luhan's ugly cackling expression dimmed down into a casual smile, and the difference was almost comical.

"You're really cute," he stated. Chanyeol wasn't having it as he dropped his last tool in a box, refusing to meet his eyes.

"I'd ask if you're hitting on me, but clearly, you're making fun of me. I don't know what I would have expected of a friend of Zitao."

"Right, you know Tao," Luhan hummed.

"Knowing is too big of a word, but he took something from me; so if you see him, let him know that I think he's a dick, and that I want it back."

"Oh? What did he take?" Luhan asked, clearly surprised. Well, maybe his friend was more rotten than he'd taken him to be, Chanyeol mused bitterly.

"It was a small, mechanical bird, about this size," he began, leaning against his work bench to shoot him a misplaced, accusing look. "It may not mean much to you or him, but it wasn't for him. I made it by myself, and I want it back."

He had assumed that Luhan's previous expression had been surprise, but now it was obvious that it had been vague interest, at best.  _ Now  _ he was looking at him with every trace of a smile gone.

"A bird? And you made it?"

The sudden change in atmosphere tripped Chanyeol up, who only muttered an affirmation.   
“Yes. What about it?”

"For whom?"

For a second, Chanyeol stared back, but Luhan's imploring eyes made him feel exposed, so he lowered his gaze.

"I... don't know," he admitted. When Luhan didn't say anything else, Chanyeol muttered something about getting a few parts and fled the room to join Kyungsoo for a bit.

It wasn't that strange, right?

That someone was secretly gifting him mechanical little animals?

Someone who must have seen the collection in Chanyeol's belongings… which he had never mentioned to anyone before. At least, not as far as he could remember.

The more Chanyeol ruminated, the more wary he got. Whatever had prompted the mysterious person to send him the little rabbit must have happened after his arrival in Berien and before the accident. And Luhan seemed to know something. Something he would undoubtedly not just tell him.

Chanyeol wanted clarity, and maybe it was time to actively seek it.

 

That night, he stayed in the forge for much longer than usual, working on the piece for Kyungsoo until the other shooed him away. Luhan escorted him back to his room, their conversations harmless and friendly. They had silently agreed on not touching upon any more sensitive topics for the time being, and like this, Luhan was much more pleasant to be around.

The castle was dark and deserted, and when Luhan dropped him off at his door, Chanyeol thanked him, opened the door, and waved at him. Their rooms were dark, too, predictably so, and Luhan walked away with a casual wave. Chanyeol waited until he had rounded a corner only then closing the door... while standing in the hallway. He was holding his shoes in his hand as he toed down the corridor, off to follow Luhan. He wanted to know what it was that Luhan and Zitao did, and if he only led him to Zitao, well, he'd at least know where to retrieve his bird.

Chanyeol was overly careful, to the point that he allowed Luhan to get so far away that it was hard to follow him. One time, Chanyeol almost got caught by a wandering staff member, and lost track of Luhan in the process.

He sighed in frustration. What was he even doing, sneaking around a semi-dark castle in the middle of the night?

He went on ahead, anyway, determined to at least check the corridors ahead of him before he'd return. The lamps lining the walls were glowing dimly, casting shadows that were so dark he almost missed the secluded passage. After a moment of hesitation, Chanyeol carefully grabbed one of the oil lamps to light his way. There were sounds coming from somewhere, a very vague humming and rumbling. Most people would likely be terrified of the prospect of inching down stairs that lead beneath the surface level, surrounded by darkness and the sound of machines faintly rumbling through the ground. To Chanyeol, however, who was born and raised in Sylvell, this was actually rather familiar and comforting.

He inched down the stairs, careful not to trip, and when he had to choose between going left or right, he followed the vague light to his right, extinguishing his lamp.

The first thing he saw was the stone floor waiting for him, dipped in warm, dim light, highlighting the soft grooves and curves of the carved surface. The next thing he saw was the lower body of a person, a person leaning on a railing, and his first instinct was to hide, but then he saw it. And couldn't hold himself back.   
  


"Jongdae?"

The room he had walked into was huge, an entire hall carved into the mountain, and yet Chanyeol's eyes stayed glued to Jongdae, who whipped his head around to stare at him in shock.

"Chanyeol? What are you doing here?" he asked in a hushed, urgent tone, checking to see if anyone was behind him.

Chanyeol stepped out on what seemed to be a stony terrace of some sorts.

"What are  _ you  _ doing here?" he asked back, keeping his voice down simply in an unconscious effort to mimic him. "Shouldn't you be with Minseok?"

"Shouldn't you be with Luhan?" Jongdae asked right back at him, and he looked slightly more worried than angry over seeing him, so Chanyeol decided to push his luck.

"I snuck away cause I wanted to find Zitao," he admitted, and now Jongdae just looked bewildered.

"Why would you do that?"

"Because he took something from me, and I wanted it back," Chanyeol replied awkwardly, and Jongdae gave him a blank stare that clearly screamed 'Seriously?' - Chanyeol didn’t let it silence him though.

"But why are you here? What even is this place? And did you leave Minseok alone, after all?"

Jongdae shook his head, pulling his coat closer to himself.

"Minseok is fine. He's asleep. I placed some guards before I left."

"But why...?" Chanyeol trailed off, and Jongdae sighed, shoulders sinking a little, but his posture remained strained.

"I just needed to relax a little. It’s been a pretty stressful day."

Chanyeol followed Jongdae's gaze, and the view from the rudimentary terrace was stunning.

Slowly, he moved towards the railing to get a better look.

"But what  _ is  _ this place?" he breathed out, looking down at what looked like an intricate maze far beneath them. It was entirely carved in stone, and lit by various colored light sources from within. Above it stretched an intricate net of sorts, and Chanyeol immediately realized that he was looking at an ancient transportation system, meant for people or small loads to be carried from down there to a point somewhere above them.

"It was used as a shelter, during the war," Jongdae explained, leaning against the railing next to him. "I used to play here as a kid."

It did indeed look like a giant playground for kids, but like a dangerous one. He fleetingly wondered whether Jongdae was already protected by a blessing as a kid.

"It's stunning," Chanyeol breathed out, and then realized that Jongdae was looking at him instead of the maze.

"It is."

He wasn't used to Jongdae staring at him like that, so Chanyeol tore his gaze away to restlessly wander over the maze, admiring the colorful lights. To distract him from that seed Luhan had planted in his head earlier.

"But don't tell anyone about this, okay?"

Chanyeol didn't look up when he felt Jongdae's arm brushing his ever so casually.

"Is this place a secret?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

Jongdae huffed, leaning his upper body on the railing, over his crossed arms.

"I'd say it's largely forgotten," he said absently, and Chanyeol was overcome by the sudden urge to put an arm on his back, sliding around to rest on his side maybe.

"But it's not exactly a good look on a prince to linger around the basement, if you know what I mean."

Chanyeol hummed.

When Jongdae fully leaned into his side at some point, Chanyeol gave in and placed his palm on Jongdae's back. A light, lingering touch that didn't push for more.

Jongdae didn't push him away, muscles relaxing under his touch almost compulsively.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updating a little earlier today because I'm working a late shift > <  
> I hope that's not annoying...


	17. Chapter 17 - [Silver]

"Jongdae?"

Jongdae looked up from his handwritten notes immediately, one finger staying with the line he had currently been reading. They were sitting at the table in Jongdae's office, the blinds drawn half shut, casting strips of light over them. Jongdae had been studying his notes and filing paperwork for the past hour while Minseok had been sketching, and then scratching up the courage he needed for this. With the last assassination attempt lying so far in the past, it seemed like Jongdae was finally relaxing a little, even though he looked slightly tired still.

"I don't wanna waste your time or anything," Minseok began, suddenly feeling guilty over interrupting him, and for something this menial, too.

Jongdae's eyes widened slightly and he put the paper down, lifting his hands just enough not to touch it anymore.

"Nope, it's okay. It's much less important than you think it is. What's up?"

Minseok subtly licked his lips and held up his sketchbook.

"Remember when you told me my sketches are too elegant and fancy?"

Jongdae blinked.

"I did?"

"Yeah, back then, before you met up with your uncle..." Minseok trailed off, watching understanding bloom on his face.

"Oh," he said slowly, and his expression immediately became apologetic. "Right. I didn't-"

"It's okay, really," Minseok cut him off and turned his sketch around for him to see. "What do you think? Is this better?"

While Jongdae took in the sketch, Minseok's fingers subtly dug into his chair, bracing himself for another disappointment.

"Is that... the auditorium?"

Minseok hummed, keeping his expression neutral. They had been to the auditorium only once, for a depressingly boring, dry speech about farming technology, and Minseok had spent most of it sketching the room, marking all the details he disliked about it. He'd made quite a few tentative sketches on what would improve it, but this one was by far the least exciting one.

Jongdae furrowed his brows as he turned the paper to read his notes.

"Honestly, I don't know much about architecture," he began, focusing on the sketch as a whole again. "But this looks really nice."

"I was thinking of cutting the columns, obviously, because they're mostly in the way, and the stabilization works over those beams instead," Minseok explained, running his finger over the paper, following the arches and details he drew at the sides. "The acoustic properties of the room can only benefit from losing the columns. Same goes for the rare case of an evacuation. Since, you know, Berien is prone to earthquakes."

Minseok just kept going now, listing all the things coming to mind before Jongdae might cut him off.

"And I thought the room might feel less suffocating and stale if we're smart about the carpeting and seating alignment. And the walls, obviously, I added some details there..."

Jongdae hummed.

"I see... that looks great, actually. You wanna suggest it some time?"

If Minseok had deflated just a little during his speech, he was back to being tense almost immediately.

"Huh?"

"I mean it, why not?" Jongdae asked, but Minseok was already shaking his head.

"I'm not even an actual architect, I have no idea what I'm talking about."

"So? You can always sit down with our team of architects and see what they think of it. Maybe they'll take you as a scholar if they like you. Which I'm sure they will."

Minseok exhaled in a derogatory laugh.

"You make it out to be so easy. I'll need a proper portfolio, and pass tests and-"

"But that comes later, right?" Jongdae cut him off. "Look, it may be different in Revria but here, we're always in dire need of clever, skilled people. The number of architects living in the capital is tiny, less than I have fingers on my hands, and most of them are very old. I'm just saying that you might be a breath of fresh air that's appreciated."

He sounded genuine and encouraging, and Minseok felt like the biggest idiot for feeling so warm and fluttery at the praise. It wasn't even a huge deal, it was nothing personal, but Minseok couldn't remember the last time someone had told him that he had a chance.

"I'll think about it," he said quietly, and Jongdae smiled.

"Do that," he hummed, returning the sketchbook. "Don't let your hard work go to waste."

With that, he was already returning to his paperwork, leaving a slightly flushed Minseok to his own thoughts.

He felt unreasonably giddy after talking about this to someone. About architecture in general, really. But the fact that Jongdae had said this made it even worse. Or better.

Minseok felt both warm and cold at the same time, and to distract himself, he flipped open a new page and started to scribble aimlessly.

 

* * *

"What would you be doing, if you weren't a prince?"

Minseok had been meaning to ask this question for hours now, always waiting for the right moment. There had been meetings, and then Junmyeon had been around, and then they'd paid a visit to Yixing, and then they'd eaten a late dinner in their room, just around sundown. Chanyeol, who had been even more fidgety and strange than usual, excused himself first, muttering something about having to write a letter to his parents. He didn't even look them in the eye as he slipped away and into his own room. Well, Minseok thought to himself, even boisterous people from Sylvell could have a bad day.

Currently, they were stacking empty bowls together and placing them on the silver tray so they could wheel it out and leave it in front of their door.

"What do you mean, what would I be doing?" Jongdae asked with good-natured interest. "What kinda job I'd have or what I would be doing in my free time?"

"Anything," Minseok said, without thinking, only to correct himself with a light shake of his head, "I mean, those two don't have to exclude each other."

"Good point."

Jongdae hummed as he thought about it, and only spoke up when the tray was rolled outside and the door was closed.

"I think I would have done something with music. Singing, maybe, or composing songs for others to sing."

For some reason, Minseok hadn't expected that at all.

"You like to sing? I never noticed that."

"Well, I'm aware that I don't live alone anymore," Jongdae joked, and while Minseok's curiosity was definitely piqued, he tried not to show it as they entered his room and both grabbed their sleepwear.

"If you'd like to compose music, do you also play instruments?" he prodded, and Jongdae grimaced.

"I took piano lessons as a kid. Maybe, if I wasn't in the position I am... in another life, maybe playing piano would have become a huge passion of mine."

He sounded oddly somber, and before Minseok could backpedal, Jongdae ripped the conversation around all on his own.

"And what about you? Did you always want to become an architect?" he asked, just as he tugged his shirt over his head (Minseok's gaze dropped to the floor), and nonchalantly walked into the adjacent bathroom (Minseok's gaze followed him, resting on his shoulder blades until he slipped out of sight).

"I guess so," he said slowly, trying to use his brain instead of metaphorically drooling over a perfectly nice person who just so happened to be comfortable enough to be shirtless around Minseok. It was nothing special. He didn't do it on purpose.

"As a kid, my parents were always very busy," he began, and waited until Jongdae had washed his face and returned to the room, now dressed in his pajamas.

"They spent a lot of time in this certain café in the main street," Minseok began, feeling strangely nostalgic. Jongdae flopped down on the bed, but looked at him attentively. His bangs were slightly wet, and Minseok blinked away the traitorous little realization.

"It was just a posh café, really. But to me, to the child I was, it looked impressive, and magnificent. Like a wonderland."

His gaze flit up to meet Jongdae's, but the other wasn't laughing.

"It probably sounds silly in retrospect, but I spent many hours at this tiny table in the corner, by the window," Minseok continued, trying to recreate the image inside his head. "It was on the first floor, and outside, you could observe the people hurrying through the rainy streets. It rained a lot, or maybe those days just stuck with me the most. Everything looked slightly foggy and blueish outside, while the café was all red and gold, with warm lights, plush seats and quaint, elegant furniture. I was pretty much on my own most of the time, since the café was deserted around those times, and my mother would be sitting many tables away, to discuss business matters."

If Jongdae found it alienating to leave their young child to sit by himself, he didn't comment on it.

"And for some reason, that café left a huge impression on me," Minseok added, feeling like he was rambling too much now. "They also had a really pretty wind-chime like thing hanging from the ceiling, maybe to signalize it's the kids' table, I don't know. This is probably not making a whole lot of sense to you-"

"No, it makes a lot of sense," Jongdae gently cut him off, rolling to his stomach. "Kids feel differently about things, and some impressions stay forever."

Minseok thought that would be the end of it, and went to wash his face to escape the awkward reality that he kept talking way too much around  Jongdae.

When they were sitting on the bed, under the covers and ready to sleep, Jongdae reached for the lamp, but then hesitated.

"When I was a kid," he began, cut himself off, and for a moment, it seemed like it would end there, but it didn’t.

"I used to play a lot with my friends. Looking back, our playground was a really bad choice, but what can you do, kids want to feel like adventurers. And..."

He was speaking slowly, trailing off occasionally, eyes glued to the blanket.

"I felt it for the first time back then. It felt like a sudden fear making my stomach drop, an irrational fear of a certain spot. I dragged someone away from it, someone very important to me, and... that's the only reason he survived," he ended tentatively, and Minseok stared at him, afraid to say anything and break the spell. Jongdae was clearly having difficulty even saying this, and he couldn't remember him ever mentioning something so personal.

"A boulder crashed down from the ceiling, and it landed right in that spot. We both got away with a few scratches. So... yeah."

He looked up at Minseok, but wasn't able to keep eye contact for longer than a second.

"I think if I wasn't a prince to this nation, I would have used this intuition that was given to me to try and save as many people as possible. Somehow."

Minseok's own stomach dropped. Now it made even more sense, how broken up Jongdae was about losing this blessing. He stared at his wrist, at the bits of the seal.

"But it's okay," Jongdae added, forcing a light tone into his voice. "What I'm doing now can also save a lot of people. What I'm doing right now is meaningful, so I have to do my best."

Minseok had already reached out when Jongdae switched off the light. It made the way Minseok touched his wrist even more awkward, but while Jongdae twitched in surprise, he didn't complain.

Obviously, Minseok drew back immediately, and lay down with a rapidly beating heart. He had no idea what he'd been meaning to do, anyway.

Before he could get settled in, however, a hand landed on his shoulder, fleetingly traveling down his arm.

"Your seal," Jongdae began, thumb rubbing over the inside of his wrist. "It's so cold. Has it always been this cold?"

Minseok was rendered frozen, which was ironic, considering how hot he felt.

"I don't know," he replied, barely above a whisper, carefully placing his hand in between them. "It always felt normal to me."

"Maybe it's because of your power?" Jongdae hummed, wriggling his own wrist into Minseok's hand. "Is mine also this cold?"

Carefully, Minseok allowed the pads of his fingers to wander over his skin, closing his eyes despite the room being perfectly dark. He definitely felt... something. It felt prickly, like that feeling when rain pitter-patters against your skin. It was hard to describe, but it was faint and oddly gentle.

"It's not," Minseok whispered, shaky fingers tracing out the lines, following them across his skin. "It feels prickly. In a good way."

Jongdae hummed, and went back to touching Minseok's seal, if only briefly.

They fell asleep like that, with their hands loosely intertwined. At least, Jongdae did. Minseok stayed awake for a long, long time, trying to shut his mind up and to stop focusing on Jongdae, stop thinking about Jongdae. Stop thinking how fast his heart pounded.


	18. Chapter 18 - [Copper]

"Alright, I think that's it for today. Good job."

Chanyeol felt a little ruffled, like he had just woken up from a nap, and Jongin's warm smile was coaxing him back to reality. He'd been lying down with his eyes closed, the scent of oils lingering in the air as he kept talking to Jongin about his past in an attempt to prod at the loose ends to maybe unravel forgotten memories.

It didn't work as far as Chanyeol was concerned, but Jongin assured him that he was doing well, and that it would take some more sessions to see results. Outside of the office, Jongdae and Minseok (and Junmyeon) had already been waiting for him - he still preferred that over being herded around by Luhan. The moment he saw Chanyeol, Jongdae jumped to his feet and approached him with a smile.

"Did everything go well?" he asked immediately, shaking the doctor's hand, even if his eyes rested on Chanyeol for a long moment.

"Yes. It will take some more sessions to see a result, but I think we'll be able to get somewhere," Jongin beamed, and it infected Jongdae.

"That's good to hear."

Minseok and Junmyeon were standing with them for now, with Minseok staring attentively at Jongdae's back. Chanyeol wished he wouldn't notice these kind of things.

"Oh, but I heard that I need an approval to continue the treatment," Jongin added, sounding almost sheepish and displaying how young he was, at the end of the day. Jongdae only shrugged and held out his hand.

"Give me a pen and I'll write you the thing."

"Just like that?" Jongin asked with wide eyes that traveled to Junmyeon, who only shrugged. To Chanyeol it was obvious that he'd given up on Jongdae for the day.

Jongin scrambled to get him pen and paper, and Jongdae used Junmyeon's clip board to scrawl an approval across it, finishing it off with a fingerprint, sign, and stamp. Minseok, who had been looking over his shoulder, furrowed his brows at the sight. Right, the great Revrians probably didn't use fingerprints as a verification anymore. 

"There you go," he said slowly, ending on a stronger note as he stamped the document and handed the copy to Jongin and the other one into Minseok’s awaiting hand. "I added a better accommodation and benefits. Please do your best for Chanyeol."

Chanyeol felt a little embarrassed by all of this, but the others didn't let him dwell on it for too long, and before he knew it, they were walking down a corridor, on the way to get a quick dinner in their room.

Jongdae asked him all sorts of things about his treatment and what he was planning on doing and all the while, Minseok kept staring at the piece of paper in his hands until Junmyeon gently took it from him. Then he went back to staring at them, and it caused a lump of guilt to lodge itself into Chanyeol's throat, cutting his replies short. Jongdae was giving him a few funny looks, obviously assuming that Chanyeol was acting weird because of the previous night. Down in the basement, on the terrace, where... they hadn't really done anything. They had stood together like that for a long time, until Jongdae sent him home, escorting him most of the way before disappearing into his office for some late night work. They hadn't... kissed or anything. It was mere friendliness between them, really. But it still felt like a step too far with how Minseok was looking at Jongdae. It wasn't Chanyeol's place. He definitely shouldn't think of Jongdae that way.

"What is this?" Minseok asked in mild curiosity when they'd shuffled into their room, the food already standing by the door. Jongdae waved Junmyeon goodbye for the time being and after catching a whiff of the food, he grimaced immediately.

"Potato stew. I can't believe it," he whined, setting the table nonetheless with an ease that had always astounded Chanyeol. He moved like he'd never grown up around servants at all, and for that, the castle and his family definitely deserved some credit in Chanyeol's eyes.

"You don't like it?" Minseok asked with a slightly tilted head, and Jongdae back-pedalled immediately.

"It's not that bad! I just. Don't feel like it today, that's all."

Minseok remained largely silent during the dinner, where Jongdae asked Chanyeol about his latest project at the forge. Feeling slightly uncomfortable and helpless, Chanyeol went along with it, all under the observing gaze of Minseok. Jongdae promised to stop by the forge and take a look at his work, even when Chanyeol assured him that there was not much to see yet.

When Chanyeol went to his room to get some tools, Minseok almost immediately started talking to Jongdae.

He was about to take the stairs and join them again when he heard something that made him stop in his tracks.

"You told me to remind you about taking me to the terrace."

The terrace. That place he had claimed to be a secret.

Despite everything, Chanyeol felt like a bucket of ice water was dumped over his head.

"Oh. Yeah, sure - tonight, how does that sound?" Jongdae replied quietly, clearly keen on shutting him up. Chanyeol swallowed.

What was Jongdae doing? Had he meant to share this with Minseok, and then Chanyeol had unexpectedly butted in, was that it?

He waited a few seconds before he joined them again, plastering a smile on his face.

"You got everything? Let's get you to the forge, then. Luhan will wait for you there," Jongdae began, and Minseok took a step away from them, hands awkwardly clasped behind his back.

"You guys go on without me. I don't really feel like going out right now."

"Huh? What's wrong?" Jongdae asked, but Minseok only shook his head and avoided their eyes.

"I just don't feel so good. Can I stay back? I want to lay down a little."

Jongdae furrowed his brows and then nodded.

"Okay, sure. Junmyeon, can you get someone to watch over him?"

Meanwhile, Chanyeol exchanged a look with him, but Minseok refused to give him anything but a neutral expression in response.

"Alright, let's go then?" Jongdae began, all but tugging Chanyeol out of the room, leaving Minseok and Junmyeon behind. "Catch you in a bit, Junmyeon!"

"Isn't he supposed to get someone else to watch over Minseok?" Chanyeol asked, suddenly nervous at the prospect of being alone with Jongdae. For some weird reason, he expected a scolding to happen.

"Yeah, he'll join us as soon as that's all over and done with," Jongdae dismissed him, and finally let go of Chanyeol's arm. "Isn't it fun, to kinda escape your babysitters if only for a little while?"

"Probably? Aren't you my babysitter right now?" Chanyeol asked, slightly unsure of where this was going.

"Damn right I am," Jongdae chirped, suddenly stopped in his tracks and then looked at him with a strange kind of determination lingering beneath the smile.

"And I'll protect you. By all means possible."

After a beat of silence, Chanyeol opened his mouth before he could stop himself.

"About yesterday-"

"Nothing happened yesterday," Jongdae cut him off, the smile still in place, and Chanyeol looked around. The hallway was deserted.

"I just-"

"Chanyeol."

He flinched at the sudden seriousness in his voice, and Jongdae had finally lost the smile. He didn't look angry, just imploring.

"Try to trust me. Okay?"

Chanyeol nodded weakly.

"I'm trying. I want to."

It wasn't a lie. He really wanted to trust Jongdae.

He felt warm hands cup his face, coaxing him to meet the other's eyes.

"Good. I'll do my best to keep you safe," Jongdae said quietly, and Chanyeol really wanted to mention Minseok, but he couldn't find the words. Only when Jongdae stopped touching him and cheeks were burning up against the cool air, when they were both walking down the hallway again, did he try again.

"But Jongdae," he began, and Jongdae turned to walk backwards, shooting him a playful, encouraging smile.

"Hm?"

"What about Minseok?"

Jongdae blinked, clearly taken aback.

"What about him?"

"Are you going to protect him, as well?" Chanyeol asked, feeling silly all of a sudden. Being around Jongdae made it so easy to forget the way he sometimes acted around Minseok.

Jongdae's steps slowed down and he huffed out a small laugh, biting his lips before nodding.

"Sure."

"Do you like him?"

He saw a glimpse of panic on his face, but whatever he was saying drowned in a strange vibration running through the castle. An earthquake, was Chanyeol's first thought. A small one.

Jongdae's eyes widened, and before the first tremor stopped, he took a step back. And another.

"I gotta go," he said. "Stick to Junmyeon."

"What?" Chanyeol asked, following the vague gesture to see Junmyeon walking towards him with brisk steps. He must have trailed after them, in a large distance, offering them privacy. When he turned around, Jongdae was already gone, just like the earthquake.

Things calmed down almost immediately after that, and while Jongdae dealt with security measures, Chanyeol retreated himself to the forge, where a letter was waiting for him.

Someone had apparently given it to Kyungsoo, who had placed it on his work table. Chanyeol ripped it open, and instead of multiple sheets filled with neatly written lines, only a small strip of paper fell out of the envelope, a handful of lines hastily scrawled across the page.

  
  


_ Hey Chanyeol, _

_ I was going to write you a lengthy letter but... _

_ That signature you sent me, the one on the cables. _

_ That's mine. And the other one is yours. _

 

_ Are you alright? _

 

_ Sehun _


	19. Chapter 19 - [Silver]

Minseok was sitting in the living room, on one of the cushions by the window, when Jongdae returned shortly after dawn. Yixing immediately looked up from his journal, greeting them with a smile.

"You're back."

Jongdae looked tired, but he returned the smile and sank into the chair across him with a deep sigh.

"Hi," he said to Minseok, who nodded in response, but made no move to get up and join them at the table. While Yixing busied himself by brewing a fresh cup of tea for all of them, there was a slightly awkward silence between them. At least it was awkward to Minseok.

"Are you feeling better?"

Minseok nodded, but couldn't bear looking him in the eye.

The spell was broken when Yixing returned with three steaming cups, engaging Jongdae in a friendly conversation right away. He was probably glad to finally be around someone talkative.

Any other day, Minseok would have probably welcomed Yixing's presence and would have liked to get to know him, but after the strange little encounter he'd had earlier... he was simply not in the mood. For anything or anyone. He still accepted the cup of tea Yixing gave him and stuck around while they talked about their days. Apparently, they hadn't had earthquakes in a while, and it cause a lot of worries that Jongdae had to disperse as well as ordering preventive measures.

He sounded tired, but not angry or frustrated. Minseok watched him subtly, sipping on his tea.

At first, Jongdae had come across as a simple person, and Minseok had quickly corrected himself on that. But right then, he felt like maybe he had never truly known Jongdae, and it made him feel alienated.

Jongdae seemed to sense that something was off about him but didn't comment on it, at least not while Yixing was around. When he left soon after, Minseok got to his feet to silently get ready for bed, and potentially fall asleep before Jongdae could join him. Jongdae didn't even let him get that far.

"Are you mad at me?"

Minseok turned to look at Jongdae, who was standing by the table, one hand on the back of a chair, posture open and nothing but genuine. Right?

Minseok blinked, and then awkwardly shook his head, ready to escape the situation by leaving first.

A light, tentative hold on his arm was enough to stop him.

"I'm sorry for not keeping my promise. I didn't forget about it."

Minseok looked at him in question, and Jongdae interpreted it as a sign to keep going.

"We can still go, if you want to. It's the prettiest at night, anyway. The terrace, I mean."

Minseok wanted to pull away, to be wary at the touch and his kind words, but instead he heard himself quietly agreeing.

"Okay."

Jongdae smiled at that, but there was definitely something else to it. Something he didn't allow Minseok to dwell on, as he immediately went to get his shoes and jacket.

 

Jongdae seemed to know every person in the castle by their first name and had a friendly smile and greeting for everyone, but no one asked where he was going to, with Minseok in tow, at such a late time. Minseok wondered whether it was due to respect or due to this being a regular occurence. Either way, the constant greetings and very brief smalltalk kept him from having to talk to Jongdae, which was good. There was simply nothing to say on his end.

They walked down corridors and took stairs, a lot of stairs. Now it made sense how Jongdae could stay so slim and almost wiry despite not exercising or leaving the castle a whole lot. Sometimes, Junmyeon would all but force him to work out with him, and Jongdae would whine and complain like it was the worst thing in the world, and yet he could easily take a scary amount of stairs without losing his breath.

Jongdae opened a door, revealing a corridor surrounded by glass, and Minseok couldn't help pausing to look at the scenery around and below him - he was used to high buildings, but this was something else entirely. They must be in one of the highest points in the castle, and despite the looming darkness, the fact that he was able to see through most of the walls and ceiling made him a little nauseous.

"Come on, we're almost there."

Jongdae's quiet words managed to catch Minseok's attention and he reluctantly followed him. The door at the end of it led to a greenhouse of sorts, and Minseok was mesmerized. There were plants, branches and petals all around, from the ground to the ceiling, growing out of the ground or lacquered pots - or raking around the beams on the ceiling with seemingly no beginning and end.

It looked like a childhood dream, like a fairytale come to life.

"This is my family's garden," Jongdae explained, upon realizing that Minseok wasn't moving anymore. His astonishment made him smile.

"It's hardly of any use, though there are one or two plants that Yixing harvests from here," he continued, "but it's been here for generations, and has become some sort of a little family treasure. It's pretty, right?"

"Yeah," Minseok breathed out, inhaling the flurry of scents. They should be overwhelming, really, but together, they simply created a thick, sweet kind of air that felt like he had stepped into another realm entirely.

"I've never seen so many flowers before."

"Right, there aren't that many gardens in Revria, are they?" Jongdae mused, but there was neither malice nor judgement to it. He allowed Minseok to tentatively walk around, towards the nearest plants, observing their forms and colors. Nature had its very own kind of architecture, Minseok thought as his eyes followed a plant with unusual-looking leaves that crawled up the wall to tangle itself with others.

"Do you still want to see the terrace?" Jongdae asked from behind him, sounding almost amused, and all of Minseok’s suspicions and negative feelings were forgotten for the moment.

"There's more?" he asked, and Jongdae definitely chuckled at that, but Minseok didn't have it in himself to be embarrassed.

"Come. They turned the lights on already."

Now obviously, Minseok knew what a terrace was. It was a plateau somewhere on or above the ground that served as a spot of relaxation while inhaling fresh air, with a good view or sunbathing spots being a bonus.

He had never seen a terrace like this though. There was a wide stretch of stones neatly and evenly covering the ground, a few potted plants, a set of tables and chairs near the entrance, but what really stood out where the trees. Two rows of magnificent trees flourishing with yellow petals. There were lights fixed on the ground, pointed to shine at the petals, emphasizing the sea of gold.

"There's no one here today, but my aunt actually quite likes to spend her evenings here," Jongdae supplied somewhere behind him. "But..."

Hearing the hesitation in his voice, Minseok turned around.

'But what?' he wanted to ask, but whenever Jongdae had started something, he usually saw it through. He just had to be patient.

Indeed Jongdae was the one giving himself the final push, and he walked towards the side of the terrace, an encouraging look asking Minseok to follow. He swung himself over the low stone wall, and Minseok followed him carefully. He landed in soft grass, but the city lights in the distance and below made him nervous. Jongdae, however, navigated naturally through the dark, walking ahead with one hand running over the coarse stone wall.

"I actually came here a lot when I was younger," he said, and then came to halt. Minseok almost walked into him.

"Since my relatives were often on the terrace, I'd sneak around, crouching behind the wall to get here, where I could be on my own. And the view is great, isn't it?"

It was. On the grassy slope around them, more trees with yellow petals were catching stray light beams, glowing softly. And ahead of them, Berien was silently humming itself to sleep. They could see the entire capital, a sea of lights loosely scattered around. They were so far away that it felt surreal.

Jongdae sat down, prompting Minseok to follow. Had he ever sat in the grass like this? Not that he could remember.

"Ahh, it's really pretty, right?" Jongdae asked, his voice filling the air, attempting to fill a void, and Minseok gave up on his wariness. He couldn't keep it up any longer.

"You didn't really have to bring me here, you know?" he asked, shooting him a glance. "I didn't know this was your private spot."

It was hard to read his expression with the way the light illuminated them from behind. Minseok thought he saw a hint of a smile.

"It's alright."

Minseok waited for him to add something, and when nothing came, he realized just how quiet this place was. Minseok had spent a good chunk of his life in silent places, but this was a special kind of quiet. It was oddly pleasant.

"I don't only come here when I'm sad, you know?" Jongdae said out of nowhere. It was the quiet that also emphasized how Jongdae always accommodated to his surroundings. If Chanyeol was loud, he got loud and boisterous with him, if Yixing talked to him, his voice dropped to a gentle, low tone, and as a prince, he was secure and firm in his appearance and demeanour. What kind of voice did he put on for Minseok?

And _this_ voice, this Jongdae, how many people had encountered him?

"I also come here on my birthday. After the formal celebrations and whatnot."

With a sigh, Jongdae lay on his back, staring into the yellow petals and stars above them.

"Every year, I come here on my birthday, to make a wish. Not a wish for the kingdom, or as prince Jongdae. Just for me. It sounds kinda greedy, but I don't expect my wish to be fulfilled, so it's okay, right?"

Minseok looked at him, before laying down as well.

"How is it greedy, to have wishes?" he asked, enjoying the soft, strange feeling of grass pressing into his neck. "If you're voicing them out only for yourself to hear, you can only expect yourself to make them happen, right?"

Jongdae hummed.

"It sounds nice if you put it like this."

"Did you ever succeed?" Minseok asked, closing his eyes. Jongdae huffed.

"Sometimes."

A soft breeze rustled through the leaves.

"Sometimes, though, it's alright not to succeed. When I was a kid, I took piano lessons, I told you about that. Well, there was always this kid who was better than me, a lot better. And as a petty, frustrated kid, I wished to finally outplay that kid. I worked hard after that and pushed myself, but no matter what I did, I wouldn't succeed. Playing the piano began to stress me out, and I started to hate it. Even today, a bit of bitterness is still lingering when I have to play the piano."

"So you allowed yourself to stop competing?" Minseok asked, and Jongdae hummed.

"Not only that, but I found something else that I enjoy a lot more."

"Singing."

Jongdae chuckled.

"Yeah. I didn't have to force myself to hold up to anyone's standards anymore. That piano kid, you know? That kid also started singing shortly after, possibly trying to compete with me, but I always came out on top without trying too hard. I guess it was a lesson learnt for everyone involved."

It sounded peaceful and nice, but something was bothering Minseok still.

"Do you think that it all comes down to talent eventually?"

"Hm? No. Not at all. To be honest, if I had kept practicing the piano, I might have become as good or even better as the other kids," Jongdae admitted freely. "Most things in life are about experience. But even if I had done so, I wouldn't have been happy over my accomplishments. So on my next birthday, I wished to be able to continue singing."

Jongdae trailed off into a small laugh, sounding faintly embarrassed.

"I was such a simple kid."

"You were evidently much more complex than I was," Minseok argued. "All I ever cared about was becoming an architect. I had a hard time making friends in my early school days, and in retrospect, I'm not even sure why. I just held on to the idea of becoming an architect even tighter and at some point, I just stopped trying to be social altogether. Unlike you, I didn't have some great insight and just kept on going, up to this very day."

"Why would anyone not want to be friends with you? Were you a quiet kid?" Jongdae asked, somewhat hung up on that. It was strange, to talk to someone about his childhood, someone who didn't know anything about him and had no fixed opinion on him.

"Surprisingly no, not at all. I guess I was just a little too odd to blend in," Minseok shrugged.

"Huh," Jongdae commented, sounding not all that convinced. "Maybe they were scared of your gift."

"I wish," Minseok sighed, toying with the grass beneath his fingers. "That only came in later, and when it did, it made people more interested in me, if anything. It made me uncomfortable, but also annoyed me. Guess I'm petty, too, then, cause I was determined to never use it."

"I can imagine people noticing it. You were really strong - the scent of snow was basically radiating off you when I first saw you. I've rarely met someone with a blessing so poignant."

Minseok made a thoughtful sound. He had never heard anyone say that they felt his gift in any way.

"Still, if this is what you want, becoming an architect, and if you're content like this, it's alright, isn't it?" Jongdae asked, and swung himself up into a sitting position again.

Minseok stared at his faintly illuminated face, wandering over his curled lips and the way his smile was reaching his eyes.

"You said it yourself - if I'm content, there is no shame in how I'm living, because it's my life. Would be unfair if that didn't count for you as well."

Minseok was surprised that he would remember this, and he was even more surprised by how reassuring it felt to hear those words. Most of his life, Minseok had spent trying to convince himself of this, but hearing it from someone else had a shocking amount of weight. Or maybe it was because it was coming from Jongdae.

The other awkwardly leaned to the side, reaching for something.

"You know what? We should make a wish."

Surprised, Minseok sat up immediately.

"It's not your birthday though? And me, too?"

"So what?" Jongdae quipped, handing Minseok a flower. "You said it's not greedy. And it feels like a good time to make a wish."

Minseok held on to the flower - it was a wild flower he had never seen before, with a poofy ball of fuzz instead of petals. Jongdae turned towards the city, eyes trained on the horizon.

"Recently, I've been kinda tired," he admitted to no one in particular. "My uncle said that if it would be anyone, it had to be me - that this place needs me, because I'm good at bending, and someone flexible would be able to lead the country to new places. I told you about that, too, didn’t I?"

He had, but it didn’t feel like he was telling it to him as much as he was telling it to the sky, explaining his wish. Jongdae gingerly lifted the flower.

"Bending all the time is so tiring though. I wish for some strength to keep me going, with my head held high."

With this, he blew on the flower like he was blowing out a candle, and the fuzzy particles dispersed into the air, carried away by the soft breeze.

They both looked after them, and then Jongdae was looking at him.

A wish.

What was Minseok wishing for right now?

He looked down on the lands below, the lights and the dark forests, then up to the horizon and finally the stars.

"I wish..." he began, thinking of all the things he had experienced since he exited the airship that one fateful day. All the things he had learnt about and people he had talked to.

"...I wish to pick up where I gave up as a kid. I want to try once more."

With this, he imitated Jongdae and the tiny little particles flew away. It seemed almost too easy, too undramatic, but that was what made it feel so freeing to Minseok. Like it really was that simple. He had put this wish into the world by voicing it out.

"That's a nice wish," Jongdae commented quietly, and leaned into Minseok's side unexpectedly.

"Did you already manage to fulfill your last birthday wish?" Minseok asked, simply so Jongdae wouldn't feel how nervous the touch made him.

"That's hard to say," Jongdae hummed, angling his face to rest in the crook of Minseok's neck. "Back then, I wished to pursue love, should I find it. Regardless of the marriage."

It stung, and Jongdae realized the implication, but didn't flail to take it back and make Minseok feel good.

"That sounds pretty mean, when I put it like that. Sorry."

"It's okay," Minseok replied slowly, and closed his eyes again, inhaling the fresh evening air, the scent of petals and Jongdae. "If your wish comes true, let me know."

Jongdae sighed, and Minseok felt it against his skin.

"I will."


	20. Chapter 20 - [Copper]

"Kyungsoo, we need to talk."

Instead of an answer, Kyungsoo held up one of his hands, and Chanyeol crossed his arms, impatiently tapping his fingers. Normally, he'd leave the other to finish his train of thoughts, but this time, he stayed in the door frame. Eventually, Kyungsoo lifted his goggles, put down his pen and turned towards him, brows lightly furrowed in something a stranger would label annoyance, but Chanyeol was certain he was simply worried.

"What is it?"

Chanyeol stalked over to his table and placed two objects on it. One was the bunch of silver cables, while the other was the strangely formed container.

"Who made these?" he asked, not even trying to sound complacent.

Kyungsoo blinked.

"Why are you asking that now? Are they faulty?"

"Don't skirt around the question, Kyungsoo," Chanyeol asked rather than demanded. "Who made these?"

"Someone from Sylvell," Kyungsoo replied, fully turning in his seat. "Why? Were they made by a friend of yours?"

"Yes. Those cables, at least. The container was made by  _ me _ ."

Kyungsoo looked mildly surprised.

"Oh, really?"

Chanyeol wasn't having it, and the fact that Kyungsoo even tried this made him more angry.

"Why are you lying to me now? Did you think it was funny?" he snapped. "I've been trying to chase down my memories and you knew something all along-"

"It's just a job you did," Kyungsoo stated calmly. "One of countless jobs you did over the past years-"

"Then  _ why  _ did you never tell me?" Chanyeol demanded, only getting more infuriated by the other's calm behaviour. "If it didn't mean anything, why did you hold back on it?"

For once, Kyungsoo was at a complete loss for words. He just stared at him, with his naturally wide eyes, expression completely blank, until his lashes fluttered, and he lowered his gaze. Chanyeol leaned on the table, his knuckles white against the wood.

" _ Tell me _ ."

In a jerky motion, Kyungsoo shook his head.

"I can't," he said, his voice quiet but clear.

"Why not? Kyungsoo, why? I thought I was your student-"

Chanyeol felt desperation well up and push aside the anger, and there was nothing he could do about it.

"-and I never minded. I liked it, actually. Did I ever upset you? Is this how you treat all your students?"

He stared at Kyungsoo, waiting for a reply. The other kept his eyes on the table though, and while he looked tense, he didn't say a word.

Chanyeol exhaled in disbelief, and then left, angry, frustrated, but mostly desperate. He just felt so helpless. He had really thought he could simply move on with his life and not think about the huge gap some accident had ripped into it, but something was just wrong about all of it. Somehow, everyone around him seemed worried, despite the assassin clearly being after Minseok. It felt like no one but him truly thought his injury had been accident. And now even Kyungsoo seemed to be in on it, the one person Chanyeol trusted the most in the castle, and he refused to tell him. It felt like Chanyeol was the only one left in the dark, left to ponder what he had missed out on in the past two years. That morning, he had found a mechanical mouse on his workbench, and he just wanted to know what was going on. Did he have a stalker? Should he be terrified, after all?

Chanyeol was just equal parts confused and angry that people seemed to willingly hold back on information.

He stormed to his room and sat down to write a letter to Sehun. In his upset state, he wrote down everything, from start to finish, filling pages for pages with shaky lines. He told him about the accident, how he was trying to regain his memory and how helpless he felt, finally asking him to fill him in on everything they had done in the past two years. Then he stuffed the sheets into an envelope and sent them off before he could reconsider it. He was scared, and asking Sehun for his thoughts was everything he could currently think of. Sehun was the only person in the world he fully trusted at this point.

Not too shortly after that, Junmyeon found him and told him off for wandering off by himself. Chanyeol barely listened. His mind was too busy recalling the past few days, looking for people who had behaved suspiciously, and while many people came to mind, one stood out to him in particular.

Jongdae.

The rest of the day, Chanyeol stayed in his room, refusing to come out when Jongdae asked, with Minseok half-heartedly echoing his question.

He listened to them talk downstairs, stacking plates and bowls after dinner, and around dawn, he heard another soft knock on his door.

"It's me. Minseok."

Chanyeol entertained the thought of ignoring him, but Minseok didn't wait for a response.

"I brought you food."

"I'm not hungry," Chanyeol lied, and Minseok didn't even try to call him out on it. Whatever he responded was hard to hear, with his voice being too soft-spoken to reach through the closed door. With a sigh, Chanyeol trudged over the wooden ground to open the door.

If he didn't know any better, he'd say that Minseok looked uneasy. Was he in on this, too? It was unlikely, but was it really impossible?

"What did you say?" Chanyeol asked, eyes unconsciously traveling behind him, and Minseok followed his gaze.

"Jongdae is taking a bath right now. It's just me," Minseok provided, offering him a bowl of mixed dishes. "And I said  _ take the bowl, then, and save it for when you get hungry _ ."

Chanyeol might be a mess but he wasn't enough of a mess to deny food any longer - besides, Minseok had never approached him like that, so he could hardly decline him. Indeed, Minseok relaxed a little when he took the food, and despite everything, Chanyeol felt guilty.

"I'm sorry," he muttered. "I just don't... feel so good."

Minseok nodded. He looked like he was about to leave, but then only threw a look behind him, as if to make sure Jongdae was still gone.

"You can tell me," he then offered, and Chanyeol was too dumbfounded to react. Minseok had never even made an effort to pretend he cared about him. Was he pitying him now?

"If you want," Minseok added quietly, and then shrugged. "After all, we're in this together, right?"

"Thanks. I'll keep that in mind," Chanyeol heard himself say, and Minseok nodded again, sending him a tight-lipped smile and wishing him a good night.

It was a surreal kind of encounter, to be honest, and Chanyeol couldn't help thinking about it as he ate his late dinner, staring out of the window.

Were they in this together though? Were they really?

With the way Jongdae talked to him, the way he talked about Minseok, and the way Minseok  _ looked  _ at Jongdae... it didn't feel like it at all. He felt like Minseok shouldn't even like him.

It all boiled down to Jongdae though.

And Chanyeol was determined to confront him about this. About everything.

He kept his door ajar that night, waiting for a sign of Jongdae leaving, but he didn't. Then again, Kyungsoo and Junmyeon had mentioned multiple times that the castle was full of forgotten, secret passages, so maybe he simply didn't leave through the door. It would make sense, because as a prince, sneaking out through the front door would surely bring him into trouble.

Chanyeol had no idea how he managed to find the terrace again, or how he did it without getting caught, for that matter, but he managed to. It took him forever, and a part of him thought that the sun would rise before he could find it, but after what felt like hours,he found it. Even if Jongdae wasn't around, he could take the opportunity to further examine the place and maybe find a hint.

He had barely made it through the entrance when someone jumped into his vision. Chanyeol lashed out instinctively, but the grip on his wrists was unyielding.

"And Luhan was right," a nasal, familiar voice said, and Chanyeol recognized Zitao straight away. "You really are nosy."

"Let go-" Chanyeol huffed, and Zitao obeyed immediately, causing Chanyeol to stumble. Zitao looked at him with raised brows, palms lifted in mock surrender.

"You're the one who's intruding here. This is no place for you to be in. You should be in your fluffy bed somewhere upstairs."

"I wanted to see Jongdae-" Chanyeol began, and Zitao actually snorted.

"You want to see your husband, whom you live with, by the way, and that's why you crawl around the basement of our castle? Do you realize how stupid that sounds?"

"Is he here or not?" Chanyeol asked stubbornly, and Luhan joined them on the platform, looking sweaty and slightly out of breath.

"Cut him some slack, Tao."

"He has no business here and we have a potential assassin running around freely," Zitao snapped, and Luhan tugged a small bottle of water from one of his belts, taking a deep sip.

"Yeah," he said after swallowing hard, "and that is none of our business. It's up to Jongdae. I let him know. He'll be here any moment."

"So he  _ is _ here. What do you guys do down here?" Chanyeol demanded, and Zitao's stare was icy.

"What part of  _ none of your business  _ do you not understand? Are you-"

" _ Tao _ ," someone snapped, and Jongdae came in sight, looking equally sweaty and grimy, tugging a wide robe closer to him as he advanced in large steps, glaring at his supposed childhood friend.

"Leave us alone. You too, Luhan. And don't you dare eavesdrop," Jongdae said, voice sharp as a knife, and the other two padded away without as much as a complaint, showing that no matter their attitude, they respected Jongdae when it came down to it.

Jongdae stared after them, waited until the sound of their steps was nothing but a faint echo, before  turning around to glare at Chanyeol.

"What are you doing here? Again? Chanyeol, this is dangerous-"

"I wanted answers!" Chanyeol defended himself, not nearly as loud or aggressive as he could have been. Seeing Jongdae angry was rare enough, but seeing his anger directed at him was intimidating, to say the least.

"Answers to what?" Jongdae asked, slightly exasperated.

"I don't know! My past, what you're doing here, anything, I just-" Chanyeol began, and when his voice cracked, he knew that he was talking himself into crying. He'd always been easily moved to tears. "I just feel like everyone knows what's going on, except for me - isn't this about me, too? You told me to trust you, Jongdae!"

Upon hearing his shaky voice and seeing his wet eyes, Jongdae's anger vanished, and he touched his upper arms, alarmed gaze seeking his.

"Hey, hey. Don't cry. I'm sorry, Chanyeol. Please," he rambled, quiet, but urgent. "I'm sorry."

Chanyeol bit his lips, and he really didn't want to cry in front of Jongdae, but his throat already felt clogged up, and he just didn't know what to do anymore.

"Of course you can trust me," Jongdae murmured, rubbing up and down Chanyeol's arms. "I would never, ever harm you on purpose. You're my top priority, okay? I'd rather hurt myself over hurting you. You have to believe me on this."

"Then why won't you tell me the truth?" Chanyeol asked, rubbing the corner of his eyes. HIs eyes were surely red and his voice still cracked, but he was hanging in there. Because the way Jongdae said it made him sound so believable.

Jongdae stared at him much like Kyungsoo had, and then frustration took over and Jongdae lowered his head, staring at the floor between them.

"I want to," he groaned, fingers tightening on Jongdae's arms.

"I really, really want to. You can't imagine how much I want to tell you  _ everything  _ I know."

He sounded broken, even more so than Chanyeol, and when he looked up, he looked positively miserable.

"Whatever I keep from you, it's not because I don't trust you, or don't believe in you, or because I'm toying with you," he said, and Chanyeol couldn't do anything but listen, because Jongdae's voice remained quiet, but plain desperate.

"I do it because it's what keeps you safe. Okay? Can you try to believe me?"

Chanyeol nodded, because while he wanted to insist, he just couldn't. Not when Jongdae was looking at him like that.

And then one hand slid up from his arm to rest in his neck, and Chanyeol saw it coming. He had every bit of a chance to stop him, to draw away, but in the end, he couldn't deny that it was him who ultimately closed the gap and kissed Jongdae.

_ Minseok, what about Minseok _ , his mind kept echoing, over and over again. What he was doing was wrong. Jongdae's breath hitched, and he hummed into the kiss that had Chanyeol's head spin. It was an innocent kiss, just a press of warm lips against his, but it was dizzying.

Jongdae  _ meant  _ this, and the fact that Chanyeol welcomed it the way he did only prove how bad of a person he was.

He was the absolute worst.


	21. Chapter 21 - [Silver]

Minseok was in good spirits.

When he'd woken up, Jongdae was already sitting at the table, eating breakfast with Yixing, and he'd shot him a smile. Sure, Jongdae smiled a lot, but Minseok deluded himself into thinking that ever since they'd ventured out onto the terrace two days ago, his smile had become a little more... heart-felt. When Minseok joined them, he tried to insert himself into their conversation at some point, and it went surprisingly well. There were no odd looks or awkward pauses. Quite the opposite - Yixing seemed positively surprised that Minseok was talking to them.

Maybe getting closer to people wasn't impossible to him, after all. Maybe he wasn't a complete failure when it came to human interaction.

When Chanyeol trotted down into the room, looking positively sick, his good mood was dampened immediately. He would have thought for sure that the dopey guy had just had a bad day, but he looked even worse than he had the day before.

"Morning," he muttered, not looking anyone in the eye as he sat down.

For some reason, Minseok felt responsible after their very brief talk the day before, and he was itching to ask him what's wrong, but Jongdae was around. He had no idea what was going on, but Chanyeol hadn’t seemed willing to talk in front of others, Jongdae included.

"Are you alright? You look a little pale," Jongdae provided, and Yixing immediately felt his forehead.

"Feels alright-"

"I'm not sick," Chanyeol mumbled, shying away from Yixing's touch, and visibly trying to pull himself together.

"I just. I had a bad dream and now I'm a little down. It's alright," he said, and the weak smile he was displaying was obviously forced.

Jongdae looked worried still, and Minseok off-handedly wondered just what was going on in between them. Jongdae seemed to care about him quite a bit, but recently, Chanyeol seemed almost uncomfortable when it came to him.

Maybe he, too, had found something. Like Minseok. It wasn't like he had forgotten about that - he had simply chosen to wait a little longer, to see for himself how things would turn out - but maybe he should consult Chanyeol about it, after all.

Maybe Chanyeol would actually make for a trusted ally.

His plans of staying behind and talking to him were thwarted though, because Jongdae all but tugged him along with no protests allowed, announcing that Chanyeol could need some rest. Minseok simply shrugged it off. They still had time. He'd simply talk to him in private when they returned in the evening. He'd call it bonding, if Jongdae asked.

 

Things turned out very differently, though. Around noon, word reached them that the assassin had been caught. At first, Minseok didn't want to believe it, but Jongdae beamed and patted his back, congratulating him as if it had been Minseok who personally caught the assassin. While Jongdae rushed off to interrogate the culprit, Minseok was left to stay behind, feeling oddly... lost. The past few weeks, he had been in constant company, and his entire day was determined by Jongdae's schedule. Suddenly, all of these limitations were gone, and now Minseok realized that he'd go back to sleeping in his own bed again, as well. The thought was both relaxing and disappointing.

Because he didn't have anything better to do, Minseok wandered back to their rooms. Chanyeol was not around anymore. He'd probably heard the news already.

It would be truly ridiculous if Minseok would use his new-found freedom to sit down in his room and sketch, so after some consideration, he took his sketchbook and pencils to venture out. Jongdae had offered to introduce a few architects to him, but the fact remained that Minseok needed something to show to them.   
He walked around the castle on his own, in his own tempo, taking in the structure of rooms, soaking up details he might not have caught onto before. It was a little awkward, and he definitely got looks by the staff passing by, but Minseok told himself not to back out now. This was his home, after all. Surely they were just surprised to see him without Jongdae.

Sketching and exploring kept him busy for a few hours, and by the time he returned to their rooms, it was late into the afternoon. He was starving, but no food had been brought to their rooms. Maybe that, too, would stop now that there was no assassin on the loose anymore. He kinda really wanted to know the person's identity.

In the kitchen, he actually met Yixing. The staff seemed nervous regarding Minseok's presence, but Yixing remained calm as ever, offering him a seat at his table.

"I didn't know you ate here, too," Minseok commented, while some staff member put cutlery and a glass on the table.

"A little change can be refreshing once in a while," Yixing hummed, dipping a piece of bread into his stew. "I heard the attacker was caught."

Minseok nodded, and then quietly thanked the young woman who brought him a delicious-looking bowl of stew not unlike Yixing's.

"Do you know anything about them? What they wanted, who they were?" Minseok asked, but Yixing only shook his head.

"Jongdae didn't have time to speak with me yet."

Minseok nodded.

"I hope you won't abandon my remedies, though, now that no one is after you guys anymore," Yixing added.

"Of course not,” Minseok replied immediately, and placed down his spoon to direct his full attention to Yixing. “ I... don't think I've thanked you yet."

"What for?" Yixing asked, mildly surprised. Minseok patted his chest, where the little belt with remedies was resting beneath his clothing, just as subtle as Jongdae's and Chanyeol's.

"The cures and potions, of course. I may not have needed them yet, but they saved Chanyeol, and they could have saved my life, as well. Thank you."

When Yixing smiled, he looked much younger and sweeter, with his dimples and shining eyes.

"You're very welcome. I'm praying that you will never need them."

And like this, Yixing remained full of secrets, not quite unlike Jongdae. They truly suited each other well.

 

After finishing his dinner, Minseok ventured out one last time, to go and find the library Yixing had told him about. He had insisted that the architecture of the library was by far the most interesting one in the castle, and Minseok was curious. Curious as to what kind of room was able to impress someone like Yixing.

It was located in a far corner of the castle, rather high above the ground, and seemingly isolated. At least Minseok was encountering less and less people, and by the time that he admitted to himself that he was lost, there was no one around to ask for the way anymore. It was also getting dark. With a sigh, Minseok rounded another corner, only to see a corridor that looked exactly the same as the last one. He should have saved this trip for another day. He wondered whether Jongdae would have someone search for him at some point.

A small sound caught his attention. It sounded like a pebble dropping in the far distance, an unusual sound that stood out starkly against the silence. Instinctively, Minseok padded his own clothing, but nothing caused a similar sound. He stalked it up to his imagination and kept going... until he heard it again. The sound stopped as soon as he stopped. Goosebumps ran down his arms, and Minseok felt his shoulders tense up.

Were those steps?

He was truly becoming paranoid now, but Minseok's heart beat faster when he walked, listening closely, and yes, there were steps. Turning his head only revealed an empty corridor, and suddenly, Minseok _really_ wanted to be back in his room.

He kept on walking, stepping up his pace, and when the corridor took a right turn, he was confronted with darkness. The lamps must be broken. Or simply not switched on. Minseok didn't want to take the time and fiddle with the lamps, so he simply went ahead, about to break into a jog, when someone roughly grabbed his upper arm.

He whipped around just as a second person crashed into the attacker, tackling him down, and Minseok was ripped down, too, painfully meeting the ground. Suddenly, everything was happening and people were yelling.

"Don't move!" a third person barked from the side, holding what had to be a weapon, a gun-

"Hold his hands, he'll kill himself," the guy then warned, and it was actually Jongdae, taking half a step in front of Minseok, the weapon lowered, but clearly ready to aim. The attacker grunted in pain when his arms were pressed to his back by none other than Zitao, and something metallic met the ground. With quite a bit of effort, he turned the attacker around, who was wearing a mask. Jongdae knelt down and ripped something off the stranger - something like a necklace - and then crushed it beneath his feet.

"Tie him up, and then search him for more poison," Jongdae commanded, kicking away the knife the attacker had lost, sending it to noisily skitter across the floor. His voice was completely different from what Minseok was used to - cold and almost aggressive.

"I knew this would lure you out," he said lowly, and when Zitao seemed to have the other under control, Jongdae ripped the mask off his head, to reveal a face Minseok knew.

It was Chanyeol's doctor. The young, shy man called Jongin.

He looked anything but bashful now, as he was glaring up at Jongdae, still struggling uselessly. His eyes widened in desperation and fear when the barrel of the gun was pointed at his head.

"You little piece of shit," Jongdae muttered. "You almost killed him."

"Stop-" Zitao began, but Minseok cut him off.

"Don't kill him!"

This seemed to break the spell, and the gun was lowered immediately, even though Jongdae didn't look at him straight away. Minseok heard him exhale, long and deep.

"Of course I won't," he said almost mechanically, turned around to offer Minseok his hand, and it was all wrong.

It was all wrong, and Minseok was too shocked to do anything but slide away from him.

"Who are you?"

Something flickered up in Jongdae's eyes, and then his brows furrowed in worry.

"Did you hit your head, Minseok? I know this is confusing, but it's alright now-"

He put his gun away and offered his right hand instead, shooting him an encouraging, gentle look.

"It's alright," he repeated, and Minseok was too shocked, too confused to do anything but take his hand.

His skin was smooth to the touch.

The seal curling around his wrist was perfectly smooth, and Minseok ripped his hand free, sliding further away from him.

"You're not Jongdae," he said quietly, shaking his head, and the other's eyes widened slightly. Minseok felt himself starting to tremble, and there were steps coming closer, but neither of them moved an inch.

_"Who are you?"_


	22. Chapter 22 - [Copper]

"Who are you?"

 

When Chanyeol and Yixing arrived, Jongdae whipped around, quickly skimming Yixing's face, but keeping his eye son Chanyeol.

Yixing had told him of the rouse, had told him that they pretended to have caught the assassin to lure the real one out. Chanyeol had been worried for Minseok, so he first made sure that Minseok was alright - which he was, although he looked extremely shocked. Then he saw Jongin and Zitao, and his eyes flit to Jongin once more to make sure that he wasn't imagining things. Finally, his gaze wandered back up at Jongdae, who was still looking at him. Only three seconds at most had passed, but Chanyeol felt overwhelmed already.

"What happened? Why is Jongin here?" Chanyeol heard himself ask, despite the answer being rather obvious.

" _Don't trust him_ ," Minseok said sharply, and Jongdae blinked, the spell broken.

"Yixing," he said, voice even and quiet, as if he feared being overheard. "Put him to sleep."

For a split second, Chanyeol was scared for himself, of losing his memory once again, but Yixing calmly walked past him and knelt beside Jongin, who kept struggling against his binds, looking nothing like the friendly doctor he'd met.

"Shh, it's just a sedate," Yixing said with deceiving gentleness, holding the lower half of his face to lift a liquid to his lips. "You won't be harmed."

When Jongin kept twitching and struggling in his hold, Zitao grabbed him even more tightly, much to Yixing's dismay. He took a tiny sip from the vial under Jongin's wide eyes.

"See? No poison. Now please, open up."

He somehow made Jongin swallow the light blue liquid with shaky fingers. They all just stood there, and the effect was instantaneous, knocking Jongin out within a minute. Minseok had taken the time to get to his feet and step away from Jongin, from Zitao, but also from Jongdae. Subtly, he had made his way to Chanyeol.

Sensing the other's uneasiness, Jongdae lifted both his palms in surrender.

"You won. We'll talk," he said to Minseok, but his eyes kept finding Chanyeol's again and again. "But we can't do it here. Tao, take care of the rat. I'm putting Yixing in charge of him for now. Do as he says."

Zitao snorted in disapproval, but got to his feet nonetheless, dragging an unconscious Jongin up with him.

"He's halfway to falling asleep," he stated petulantly, but while Yixing subtly steadied himself on a wall, he managed to look and sound unimpressed.

"I'm perfectly fine. I could just need a cup of black tea."

A light touch on Chanyeol's arm made him flinch, but it was just Minseok, who had subtly grabbed his upper arm, still warily eyeing Jongdae.

"We can talk in our room," Jongdae offered, and while Chanyeol nodded readily, Minseok seemed hesitant. Jongdae huffed.

"You want anyone to join us? Anyone you trust more than me?"

It didn't sound like Jongdae at all, and seeing such a confrontational expression on him was alienating.

Minseok thought about it for awhile, but came up empty.

"Thought so," Jongdae replied, and walked past them.

Chanyeol exchanged a look with Minseok, silently asking him for answers, but Minseok only shook his head... and stuck to him.

 

He was still standing half a step behind Chanyeol when they had reached their room, arms crossed in a clear show of discomfort. The kitchen table stood in between them, and the air was tense.

"I've had an eye on Jongin for awhile now," Jongdae admitted, still looking at Chanyeol, only talking to him, really. "He's not a Selven doctor. Yixing is from Selven, just like Zitao and Luhan at least partly are. Kim Jongin is clearly of a different descent, so I gave him the benefit of the doubt."

It was still hard to believe that Jongin, of all people, would have wanted to harm Minseok. But now it made sense that Jongdae himself had always tagged along to meet his doctor.

"But his methods aren't Selven either. They usually rely on alchemy, not quite unlike Yixing, or implement needles and other scary methods to manipulate the human body. What this guy was doing had nothing to do with actual medicine."

It came to him now, too, all the moments Jongdae had shown an odd amount of interest in Jongin and his methods. Chanyeol had not thought anything into it at that time, and now felt like a fool.

"I followed him around, observed him together with a few others, and two days ago, he was gracious enough to feed the doctor we had actually asked for. Who had been held captive in a dirty, forgotten room. He's saved now, and resting."

Chanyeol nodded, more out of instinct than actual understanding.

"What did you do to Jongdae?" Minseok asked suddenly, and Chanyeol was starting to worry for him.

"Are you feeling alright, Minseok?" he asked carefully. Minseok looked extremely disturbed, and he didn't mean to push him away, but, "Jongdae is right there?"

"He's not!" Minseok snapped, growing more agitated again. "I have been suspecting this for awhile now, ever since I saw his handwriting - when he wrote your doctor this flimsy, weird permit-"

As Minseok was spilling what had obviously been on his mind for a long time, Jongdae's eyes widened subtly.

"-because your handwriting doesn't match Jongdae's. I saw it a lot, but to be sure, I compared it to the note he left me, and it's completely different-"

"Minseok, please," Jongdae began, "just because my handwriting was more sloppy than usual-"

There was no stopping Minseok though, who simply kept going, voice trembling slightly.

"You keep forgetting things you said. One day, you remember something, the next you have forgotten about it and the day after that, you'd apologize for it - you freely criticize me one day, and the next you call that a dick move and claim that you don't know the subject matter, anyway-"

"I'm just forgetful, okay?!" Jongdae attempted to cut him off yet again, voice rising in an attempt to drown out Minseok's, and Chanyeol watched the entire exchange, rooted to the spot in shock. "It wasn't important to me! And when I realized that I'd hurt your feelings-"

" _Your mark is fake!_ " Minseok snapped, taking a step forwards until only the table separated them.

Jongdae froze.

"It's supposed to feel prickly, to feel like something, just like mine. Just like Chanyeol's. But yours feels like nothing, because it's not containing any energy. It's just some dead paint!"

Chanyeol instinctively glanced at Jongdae's wrist, which he subtly pulled to himself. He then touched his own seal and felt nothing.

"Minseok, mine isn't feeling like anything, either," he said in a small voice, and Jongdae's attention snapped back to him, looking relieved, but Minseok only held out his arm.

"You can't feel it if it's your own."

Hesitantly, Chanyeol reached out, fingertips running over the orange-colored ink. It truly was cold, colder than the skin surrounding it, in an entirely unnatural way.

Minseok was still staring Jongdae down.

"If you still think I'm delusional, then why don't you show us your wrist? You have nothing to lose, right?"

Jongdae looked at both of them, completely silent. He looked... cornered. Beneath the thick layer of annoyance, anger and brash attitude was a tinge of fear.

It all left him in just a second, and Jongdae's gaze dropped to the table, exhaling in a short, breathy laugh.

"I can't believe you two fucked," he said quietly, with a morbid kind of joy. "Who would have thought?"

"We didn't," Minseok said defensively. "We found out by accident. Who are you really? What's your name?"

"Who do _you_ think I am?" Jongdae suddenly asked, all pretense dropped in exchange for provocation.

Minseok hesitated.

"What do you mean, you're not Jongdae? You guys can't be serious," Chanyeol tried to intervene, but he couldn't stop the scene from unfolding.

"You look just like Jongdae," Minseok began. "So either a shapeshifter... or a brother."

"A shapeshifter. I actually like that one," Jongdae said, sounding oddly condescending. "You're creative, after all."

"So you're his brother," Minseok concluded, not even bothering to address his snarky comment. Chanyeol lightly shook his head. Jongdae had a brother? A brother who looked just like him? Who had taken his place at some point-

The memory of their kiss came rushing back, and Chanyeol felt a little nauseous.

"What the hell is going on?" Minseok demanded. "And where is Jongdae?"

"You're talking like I've abducted him," the person Chanyeol had known as Jongdae said snidely. "He's fine, he's always been fine, and he just let me do the dirty work-"

"That depends on what you define as dirty work," another voice said, and then Jongdae entered out of his bedroom. It was true. This wasn't a joke, Jongdae wasn't mental and neither was Minseok - there were two people looking the exact same, except for their clothing.

"You can leave now," Jongdae said, waving him off. "I'll take it from here."

"Wow," his brother commented dryly, "how gracious of you. Good thing this doesn't concern me at all, or I'd be very pissed right now-"

"Shut up and _leave_ ," Jongdae snapped, and yes, he was angry, but it felt significantly different, and Chanyeol could see it now. Jongdae sounded stressed and defensive, while the other was aggressive and snarky.

After a few, tense seconds, his brother backed down, despite looking furious.

"Fine. Sure. You deal with my life, please. Let me know when I'm allowed back in again," he said bitterly, and Jongdae groaned.

" _Please_ ," he said, and it didn't sound mocking or agitated anymore - it sounded more like a plead to Chanyeol's ears. The other just turned away though, walking towards Jongdae's bedroom, when Chanyeol called after him.

"Were you the one I met on the terrace? Was that you?"

He didn't know what he wanted to hear, but a part of him clearly knew the answer already.

When those bright eyes met his and he only received a small, bitter smile in response, Chanyeol felt cold. He felt... betrayed. Nauseous. Disgusted with himself.

 

"Fuck you," he breathed out, and there was not a single reaction on the stranger's face as he left the room, quietly closing the door, leaving behind nothing but shambles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaah, is anyone surprised? Anyone?   
> I really hope so.  
> Going back, many things should make sense and start making more sense from now on!  
> Ironically, things should start being unbeta'd from here on out. I'm not sure when my beta will catch up, so until then... forgive my silly mistakes? ;;  
> Love,  
> Sugary


	23. Chapter 23 - [Gold]

Jongin's hands and feet were bound to the chair when Jongdae entered, his gaze stubbornly resting on the table. Jongdae wordlessly dismissed the guards, and Yixing closed the door.

The three of them were alone now, and Jongdae grabbed a second chair so they could both take a seat opposite Jongin.

He hated stuff like this but it was necessary - and he trusted no one but himself and Yixing to pull it off correctly.

Jongin looked rather ashen, and from up close, it was obvious that his eyes were slightly puffy. His posture, however, betrayed none of it. They were facing a professional.

Jongdae inhaled subtly. Focus, he had to focus.

"What's your name?"

Jongin kept his gaze on the table, no doubt testing their limits, seeing if they would resort to violence right away, to get a feeling for the situation.

There was a reason he had stayed perfectly unharmed so far though - harming a prisoner while in a position of power displayed nothing but a lack of discipline to Jongdae, and he was extremely strict in that regard. With himself, too.

He looked towards Yixing, whose thoughtful gaze was resting on Jongin, as well. Sensing the movement out of the corner of his eye though, he reached into his gown, pulling out a small glass bottle and two flat, traditional cups which he put on the table in that inborn elegance Yixing was known for among the castle. As a gentle, soft-spoken person, this behaviour was like a shield to him, making him strangely inscrutable, untouchable even. It also worked like an anchor for Jongdae, who noticed Jongin's gaze flitting to the cups. They might look more befitting of drinking expensive alcohol, but the liquid in that bottle was more expensive than any alcohol in all of Berien. It sparkled pink in the artificial light, and while Jongin's expression remained steady, the way he stared at it made it obvious that he was wary.

"This, too, is no poison," Yixing explained calmly as he uncorked the bottle. "I didn't lie to you yesterday so you have no reason not to believe me."

Jongin huffed, a tiny, small exhale driven by disbelief. In response, Yixing smiled. And filled both cups with what couldn't be much more than a teaspoon worth of the liquid.

"Thought so."

He stood up and walked around to stand beside Jongin, who tensed up. It looked more defensive than offensive, though. Jongdae kept a close eye on him regardless.

"I will untie your hands now," Yixing announced, fingers already reaching for the metal cuffs. "Because how else would you drink?"

Jongdae tried not to show it, but he was on edge when the first cuff was loosened with a click.

"This potion is really rare and hard to make. It's made to coax the truth out of people," Yixing explained as he worked on the second cuff - technically speaking, there was no need to uncuff him at all, but Jongdae went with Yixing's ways. Jongin's eyes widened in something akin to panic, but he didn't move an inch. Yixing walked back around the table, took a seat and placed one cup before Jongin, and the other one before himself.

The implication was clear - Jongin would be forced to put his cards on the table, but so would Yixing. He would not be lied to. They could simply force him to drink it, or even beat the answers out of him, but they gave him a choice instead.

Yixing reached for his cup, shooting an expectant look towards Jongin.

"Let's have a drink, shall we?"

Jongin looked at him, and then at the unnaturally pink liquid. He squeezed his eyes closed. Like this, he looked young and cornered. But then he reached out slowly, holding the cup with slightly trembling fingers.

Yixing smiled again, holding up his own.

"Cheers."

Jongin placed the porcelain to his lips, but Jongdae saw him hesitate, saw him watch Yixing out of the corner of his eye. Making sure that Yixing followed through with it. Jongdae didn't have to look to know that he did. That was simply who Yixing was.

With a sigh, he placed the cup back on the table, and Jongin followed suit, albeit shakily so.

"It's a little sour, isn't it?" Yixing commented, not expecting an answer. "It should only take a moment."

Jongin kept his eyes lowered, staring at the empty cup with an almost empty expression as he waited.

"Ask again, Jongdae," Yixing said softly, and Jongdae swallowed dryly, feeling just a little bad about all of this. He had to remind himself that this harmless-looking boy - because that's what he was, really - had attempted to murder Minseok.

"What's your name?"

"I have many names," Jongin replied quietly, but without hesitation, and without lifting his eyes from the table. Clearly, he wanted this to be over and done with.

"None is more real than the other."

"Any name we might have heard of?" Jongdae asked, but Jongin only shook his head.

"Then we'll keep calling you Jongin. Does that make you uncomfortable?"

Another shake of his head. Alright then.

"I need more verbal responses from you, starting from now," Jongdae began, leaning forward on his arms to carefully observe Jongin's expression, "who sent you?"

"Two politicians did. From Revria."

He said their names, too, and Jongdae jotted them down on a piece of paper. One of them seemed vaguely familiar.

"And why would two politicians from Revria want their own man dead?"

"They didn't tell me."

"What do you think the reason is?" Jongdae calmly asked, aware of how the truth serum worked, and how precise questions were crucial for success.

"Political advantages. It would make your country look bad and stage Revria as a victim."

Again, the answer came without hesitation, but Jongin looked highly disturbed, so Yixing lightly tapped Jongdae's knee, asking him to wait. Jongdae didn't doubt Yixing and took a few more notes while his friend took over.

"Are you scared of them?" he asked, after a long moment of silence.

"Yes," Jongin whispered.

Yixing's voice stayed gentle and imploring.

"Are you scared of us?"

"Yes."

"Because we caught you," Yixing stated.

"Yes."

Yixing hummed, nothing but patient.

"You can ask me things, too, you know," he then offered. "I drank the same serum. I won't lie to you."

Jongdae would much rather finish interrogating Jongin first, but if Yixing took the initiative like that, then he knew what he was doing, so Jongdae placed his pen down and watched the scene unfold. To his surprise, Jongin immediately had a question for him, his voice rough and eyes slightly red.

"Are you going to kill me?"

"No," Yixing said immediately, and then turned towards Jongdae. "Right?"

It was equal parts a question, an advice, and a silent plea. Jongdae thought about it. He was rather soft-hearted, and some would say that worked against him.

His twin would say so. His twin surely wanted to see Jongin dead.

But he wasn't the one to decide that.

Jongdae took another look at Jongin and slowly shook his head.

"I'm not planning to. But I can't say  _ what  _ I'm planning, because I don't know all the facts yet. If we didn't punish you, or not too badly, anyway, would you still backstab us?"

"Yes," Jongin replied straight away, and Jongdae sighed.

"Why?" Yixing asked, looking Jongin up and down, assessing the miserable-looking boy. "Why did you accept the job, then, and are putting yourself on the line for it, if you're scared of the ones who sent you? What do they have on you?"

This time, Jongin didn't reply right away, a feat that must show an immense emotional strength... or discomfort. Eventually, Jongin began to unbutton his shirt, movements slow and shaky.

He kept his gaze on the table as the fabric slipped down, revealing a toned, bronze-colored upper body, and a complex-looking, black seal running round his throat and raking down his chest, reminiscing of stylized paint running down his skin.

"They took away my ability," Jongin explained quietly. "It's part of what made me powerful. And free."

"What were you able to do?" Yixing asked, while Jongdae was unable to keep his eyes of the strangely hideous-looking seal.

"I could travel great distances within the blink of an eye."

"That's a really rare, outstanding ability," Yixing commented. He seemed to finally get to Jongin, who grabbed his shirt a little tighter around himself.

"They asked for me, and then they drugged me," he said quietly. "When I woke up, I was sealed. They told me they'd undo it as soon as I finish the job."

"Can I touch it?" Jongdae asked, and Jongin clearly didn't expect this, but despite his wariness, he nodded.

Jongdae walked around the table, making sure to reach out slowly. As soon as his fingertips touched the black ink, he twitched back in surprise, only to try again. It felt like a group of needles pricking him, and the higher the pressure he applied, the spikier it felt.

"It's definitely alive," Jongdae murmured, and then, in a spur of gentleness, he tugged the shirt back up to cover him, carefully buttoning it up. Jongin held his breath, but didn’t move a muscle.

"I don't know if there is a way to break this seal," he admitted, "but one thing I know for sure. It's more likely that  _ we  _ will find a way, with an entire nation and connections at our fingertips, than two random people of a medium high status."

When the shirt was in place again, Jongdae took a step back, but didn't bother sitting down again.

"You can try to wriggle out of our grasp, and you can even try to murder my husbands, and  _ then  _ take your chances with the two people dirty enough to pay for such a deed to keep their promise," he announced calmly, waiting for Jongin to look up and meet his eye before he continued.

"Or you can stay here, and we will try to break this seal to the best of our abilities."

"Why would you do that?" Jongin asked defensively, but there was certainly a flicker of hope in his eyes. Jongdae shrugged.

"You seem to be a skilled person. Berien always welcomes those who are blessed. I'm sure we have work for you. Less bloody work, too."

Jongin's eyes flit over to Yixing.

"Is he lying?" he whispered, looking slightly panicked, but taking the leap, anyway.

"I can't say for sure," Yixing hummed, but there was a hint of fondness to his smile. "But I have known him since I was a child, and he is not a cruel person. It is certainly true that Berien is in dire need of blessed ones."

Jongdae leaned into his vision just enough to grab Jongin's attention.

"Do you agree to serve us in exchange for our help and shelter? We will protect you like one of ours."

Jongin thought about it for a moment, but then nodded.

"Yes."

"Will you attempt to murder any other person in this castle?" Jongdae asked, and it would be a silly question, if not for the truth serum forcing an honest answer out of him.

"Not if you keep your word."

"Fair enough," Jongdae sighed. "That will have to do for now."

He reached for his papers, quickly arranging them.

"Yixing, I'll put you in charge of him. Is that alright with you?"

Yixing smiled.

"Sure."

"Do whatever you feel is necessary. You have my full permission."

"Understood," Yixing hummed, and got to his feet as well, taking the two empty cups and stuffing away the innocuous-looking bottle.

"First, you should lay down and sleep off the serum's effect," he said to Jongin, easily opening the shackles around his feet. Watching them, Jongdae sighed again.

"Be careful, Yixing, okay?" he asked, and Jongin glanced at him upon hearing the genuine concern.

"Don't you worry about me," Yixing smiled, lightly touching Jongdae's shoulder. "I got this, and you have enough worries of your own. Go and talk to your two husbands. Or to him."

"I don't have anything to say to him," Jongdae stubbornly said, but while Yixing and Jongin left, he stayed behind to stare at his papers, without really seeing them. The betrayed expressions on both Minseok and Chanyeol’s face kept resurfacing, now that he had nothing else to focus on.

How was he going to fix any of this?


	24. Chapter 24 - [Copper]

"It is entirely unlikely that anything will recover your memories. I'm sorry."

Chanyeol nodded, and he felt much less broken up about this than the doctor had probably expected. If he was being honest with himself, he had already sort of come to terms with that fact. With Jongin being exposed as a fake doctor, Chanyeol had put two and two together, realizing that everything had just been meaningless pandering to Jongin, anyway, to draw out his stay in Berien.

The actual Selven doctor they had asked for was called Wu Yifan, and currently looked slightly apologetic over supposedly crushing his hopes.

"The only chance I'm seeing would be meeting a person with a very specific ability, and even then I wouldn't necessarily recommend it, since the risk would likely be higher than-"

"It's alright," Chanyeol cut him off, and under the other's sceptical gaze, he smiled. "Really, it's okay. I didn't expect anything to bring them back, anyway."

Wu sighed, and despite his intimidating appearance, Chanyeol felt at ease around him.

"I'm glad you think that way," he said with a tight-lipped smile. "Of course we will still have to take a proper look at your blood samples and examine you further to possibly tell what triggered the memory loss. They might also tell us something about whether or not there might be late side effects or future issues you could run into."

"Makes sense," Chanyeol agreed easily, and he saw it now, how this person was professional where Jongin had been acting. He found it a little alarming that only a single day after being fished out of a dirty basement, Wu was back to his job, but apparently, he had insisted. He looked fine, too, if not a little tired.

Chanyeol took it as a sign that he, too, should try to stay strong and move on.

 

In his case, that included a visit to the forge.

He hadn't been there since he'd snapped at Kyungsoo. It couldn't go on like this, obviously, because the forge was Chanyeol's home - he'd spent more time there than he had in his room. Still, while he could forgive Kyungsoo for not telling him about the crown prince's secret, he didn't see how this had anything to do with the fact that he had worked for Kyungsoo before.

And so he hovered around the forge for a stupid amount of time before he gave himself a push and knocked on the doorframe. The door had been left wide open, and Chanyeol tried to remember whether it had always been like that, or whether Kyungsoo might be waiting for his return.

There was no one to be seen in the workshop. Kyungsoo was probably in one of the adjacent rooms, so Chanyeol awkwardly tugged the little string to make the wind chimes above the door announce his entrance.

"Coming," Kyungsoo called. Chanyeol didn't expect him to come rushing out, so he took a seat at his work bench. None of his things had been moved, and Chanyeol tilted his head to absently look at one of the construction drawings, spotting a spelling error (his grammar was perfectly fine, but he tended to forget letters when he got too immersed).

The door opened, and a ruffled-looking Kyungsoo entered, squinting a little.

"What's- oh. It's you."

He blinked some more, rubbing his eyes and righting his goggles in an attempt to... yes, to what? Look more presentable?

"Yeah," Chanyeol said lamely, and now he really wished he'd put together some sort of speech. "Sorry for just barging in like that. I wanted to apologize. I was being a brat."

Kyungsoo lightly shook his head.

"You weren't," he replied, calm and unfazed as ever as he walked around the forge until he could rest his arms on Chanyeol's workbench. "It was - no, _ is _ \- your right to ask questions."

Chanyeol's shy, lopsided grin only made Kyungsoo drop his gaze and sigh.

"And I should answer them for you. I owe you that much. It's just that I can't."

"I trust you."

The statement seemed to throw Kyungsoo off, but Chanyeol meant it.

"I found out about one of the big secrets this castle has," he said vaguely, with a fleeting look to the open door, "and I know there are more things that you're not telling me, and I  _ know  _ that it didn't sound like that when I snapped at you, but I do trust you."

At the mention of a big secret, Kyungsoo shot him a disbelieving look. Apparently, word hadn't traveled to him yet. They had been explicitly told, however, that Kyungsoo was one of the people aware of Jongdae's brother.

"So... sorry, I guess. I won't be pestering you again about stuff you can't tell me about."

When silence was all he got for an answer, Chanyeol got nervous.

"You're not going to throw me out, right? I wasn't lying when I said that I liked it here."

That put a crack in Kyungsoo's blank mask, who looked mildly shocked.

"You're an idiot," he uttered, before he knew it, and then lightly shook his head again, completely taken aback and unsure how to react. When no words came to him, Kyungsoo leaned his forehead against his hands, staring at the table.

"Why would I throw you out?" he asked quietly.

"Because I'm more trouble than it's worth?" Chanyeol asked in a small voice, if only to fill the stifling silence. Kyungsoo didn't reply anything to that and only inhaled and exhaled, deep and regulated. Chanyeol was starting to feel worried when he finally spoke up.

"I don't have any students because I'm a terrible teacher," Kyungsoo admitted, and Chanyeol couldn't see his eyes, but his voice sounded even, if not resigned.

"There's only been a handful I even bothered to spend time on, and none stuck around for long because it wasn't what they'd imagined it to be like. I was wary when you showed up. I'm not very sociable to begin with, as you can probably tell."

Chanyeol huffed, smiling to himself. Yes, he had figured out that much already.

"But even a failure like me has duties to fulfill as a teacher. You've done your part, but I disappointed you, and I'm sorry about that."

With a last, deep inhale, Kyungsoo finally lifted his head and faced him.

"I will be the teacher you deserve from now on," he announced, and it was obvious how hard it was for him to express himself in such a straightforward manner.

"You have potential and the right attitude. Having you around is a great help, and I look forward to sharing this workshop with you, until one day, I can share every single detail of our jobs with you."

"You just called it  _ our  _ jobs," Chanyeol echoed, because instead of being stunned silent, his brain liked to switch off his filter. It tripped Kyungsoo up, and was that really a tinge of red dusting his cheeks?

"Sorry. It's your choice, of course. Whether you want to stay or not."

Chanyeol had never seen the great engineer Kyungsoo so flustered and vulnerable, and instead of feeling smug about it or making things even harder for him, he complied immediately.

"I told you I want to stay, and I told you I like it here," he said gently, steading his face in his palms to maybe keep his happy grin at bay. "You're an unusual teacher, but I like it. I'm looking forward to learn from you."

Kyungsoo frame sagged a little in relief and relaxation, even when when his voice took on an exasperated tone.

"This sounds like you're dying to get me into trouble, actually, but given that we're talking about you, you probably  _ mean  _ it," he commented dryly, and Chanyeol grinner even wider, he couldn't help it.

"Of course I do! Did you ever get around to testing the link that I made?"

Kyungsoo opened his mouth to reply, but then his entire expression reverted into a guarded one as he looked over Chanyeol's head and towards the door.

Confused, Chanyeol followed his line of vision, to see Jongdae standing in the door frame, his arms crossed. He looked conflicted, and the way he looked at Chanyeol immediately told him that no, this wasn't Jongdae.

"What do you want?" he asked defensively, and Jongdae's brother replied without missing a beat.

"Talk to you."

Chanyeol shook his head before he knew it. The memory of their kiss was still a little too fresh on his mind for him to want to see his face.

"I don't have anything to say to you," he said, and it probably sounded less angry than he had intended it to. Jongdae's twin shrugged, and stepped inside the forge, anyway.

"Alright, then just listen to me-"

Chanyeol got to his feet, and that seemed to be enough for Kyungsoo.

"Out," he demanded curtly. Jongdae's brother seemed equal parts amused and in disbelief over this.

"Are you ordering me around right now? You do realize I'm in charge here?"

"You may be a prince but this is my workshop. Have some respect," Kyungsoo countered, entirely unimpressed.

"Really now, Kyungsoo?" he asked, aiming for a different, more personal approach, but Kyungsoo remained unfazed.

"We're busy serving the kingdom here. So unless this is about a job, you will unfortunately have to wait until we're done,  _ Jongdae _ ."

The use of the fake name had the other bristle visibly, but he took a step back nonetheless, looking at Chanyeol now.

"Chanyeol, I know you're mad," said, obviously hurrying before Kyungsoo could intervene, "I didn't tell you anything to keep you safe-"

"I'm somewhat tired of hearing this shit," Chanyeol cut him off, and Kyungsoo dragged the reluctant prince to the door. He was about to gently push him outside when Jongdae's twin had enough and placed a flat palm on Kyungsoo's chest - something that caused an obvious discomfort to the other and alarmed Chanyeol. Before he could jump to his aid, though, bright eyes locked on his. They shone with desperation and were both identical and yet so very unlike Jongdae's eyes.

"I love you."

There was nothing but stereo silence in Chanyeol's mind. Nothing to say, nothing to even think.

"And you used to feel the same for me."

Chanyeol wanted to protest, but no words came out, and the other stepped out of the forge, looking strangely apprehensive and flustered, but it didn't stop him from meeting Chanyeol's eyes once more, before he left.

"Stay safe, Chanyeol."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> early update cause I'll be going out and enjoy the sunny weather for a bit ☆


	25. Chapter 25 - [Silver]

Minseok sat at his desk, doodling. What had started out as an attempt to be productive had quickly ended in the random lines and swirls that took up a good half of his page now.

The day after Jongin had gotten caught, Jongdae had slipped out of their rooms before Minseok had woken up, and he didn't return all day. It suited Minseok well, and he went to bed early. This day seemed to be a copy of the last one, down to the fact that the entire happening kept replaying in his mind over and over again as he stared at his paper.

Jongdae had eventually sent his brother away and explained things to them, but his explanations had been meager at best.

Yes, he had a twin, yes, that was a secret. He didn't usually mingle among the others, and this entire time had been an exception made so he could assist them in catching the assassin. It was absolutely vital that he remained a secret - Jongdae had been abundantly clear about that.

When Chanyeol had asked him for a reason, Jongdae had said something about politics, and how it would affect the nation's already fragile relationships. He told them not to seek his twin out and pretend he doesn't exist. As an afterthought, he also told them to be wary of Zitao and Luhan, who apparently were his twin's friends. All of this made his brother sound like a dangerous person, for some reason. It didn't make a whole lot of sense to Minseok, but he really didn't owe them an explanation. However absurd this may be, it was a national secret that only a handful of people knew about, some of them being Yixing, the royal family, obviously, the blacksmith guy who owned the forge - for some reason - and Junmyeon, of course.

It wasn't a lot of information Jongdae had given them, and yet it was enough for Minseok to go back and analyze all the details about Jongdae he could remember. How he had always been wary of Luhan and Tao, because by extension, it meant contact to his brother.

He also spent a lot of time thinking about the differences between Jongdae and his brother. In the end, his evidence hadn't been all that fool-proof, but rather than that, Minseok had simply known he wasn't facing Jongdae in that particular moment. There was no definite explanation as to why he had been so sure. This other person had simply lacked a lot of characteristic traits he had seen in Jongdae. The ones he had been drawn to. Sure, he hadn't seen Jongdae in a lot of extreme situations so far, but when an attempt on their lives was made in the past, he’d usually dropped everything to thoroughly check on them, delegating everything else to those around him. Back then, though, his brother had been fixated on the aggressor first and foremost, determined to deal with him. He'd also been driven by a kind of rage he had rarely ever seen glimpses of in Jongdae.

Now that he thought about it, the times that he  _ had  _ seen a sharp side of Jongdae had probably been his twin, as well.

Not that Jongdae was a spineless weakling, his determination simply took a different form.

He thought of the way Jongdae had voiced his wish. Firm, decisive, and slightly wistful.

With a groan, Minseok buried his face in his arms.

He couldn't stop thinking about this. He couldn't stop thinking about Jongdae, and at this point, it annoyed him. He was getting on his own nerves, for god's sake.

What did he even want from Jongdae? It only made sense that he and Chanyeol weren't deemed trustworthy enough to know of such a secret right away, so he wasn't actually mad that it was kept from them-

A polite knock ripped him out of his thoughts.

"Yes?" he said, hoping it would reach whoever was at the door. When it opened shortly after, Minseok turned to see Yixing in the doorframe, and half a step behind him stood... Jongin.

"Hello Minseok," Yixing announced with a gentle smile as he allowed himself in, the other trailing after him, eyes lowered to the ground. Minseok tensed up, feeling slightly sick from the sudden turn of events. Yixing only placed a little container on the table - presumably new potions for Jongdae. Behind him, the assassin didn’t move an inch, but his posture seemed controlled. Attentive.

"It's alright," Yixing said, and Minseok forced himself to focus on him instead.

"He's with me now," he explained, turning to Jongin. "Would you mind waiting outside for a bit?"

Wordlessly, the other left the room, closing the door with a soft click.

"How can you trust him?" Minseok whispered immediately, but Yixing only shook his head and tugged a chair around so he could sit on it while facing him.

"Don't worry about that. How are you holding up?"

"I'm fine?"

"You are? That's nice to hear," Yixing commented. "If you ever find yourself feeling odd or wary, don't hesitate to come see me. A cup of tea can work actual wonders, and not drinking it alone helps, too."

Minseok felt caught in his brooding, even though that was just ridiculous.

"How long have you known about... all this?" he asked, and instead of questioning his vagueness, Yixing replied straight away.

"I've pretty much always known about them. Ever since Jongdae decided that I was worth his time back when I was new to this country. I barely spoke the language, and I was quite the loner, to be honest."

It was both hard and easy to picture that - Yixing still seemed like somewhat of an outsider, someone who was a tiny bit too quirky to fit in, but at the same time, he seemed very much at peace with his situation.

"We became very close friends, and one day, Jongdae couldn't help but telling me everything. You know how kids are. It's kind of a miracle that he'd kept it to himself for such a long time, anyway."

Minseok nodded, because he had thought about that. He could see himself keeping such a secret, but he'd been a weird, quiet kid, and most other children seemed to burst with the need of communicating every single thing crossing their minds.

"Didn't you get in trouble for that?" he asked, and Yixing chuckled.

"We got into so much trouble, both of us. Thankfully, it all worked out alright."

Because it was you he confided in, Minseok thought. It probably wouldn't have worked out with most other kids.

"In the end, it came down to him telling me all this just so he could extensively complain about his twin's piano skills. Kids really are funny," Yixing ended, looking nothing but fond.

"So it was him who Jongdae was competing with as a kid," Minseok mused, and Yixing nodded.

"They were competing a lot, just like most siblings do. It's a shame that their relationship is so complicated or else they would probably make for an extraordinary team right now."

"Why are you telling me all this?"

Yixing shrugged.

"I thought you'd be interested. Am I boring you?"

"No," Minseok hurried to say, because while this was a little odd, talking to YIxing was always nice.

"-and I figured you didn't speak to Jongdae yet. Are you planning to?"

Oh. So this was what it was all about. Yixing was being a protective friend who worried about Jongdae.

"The timing was just bad," Minseok said evasively, but Yixing's knowing look made it very obvious that he wasn't buying it. "If you think I'll sell him out, then you can stop worrying-"

"I'd never think that of you, don't say that," Yixing cut him off with mild surprise. Minseok felt like the other put a little too much faith in him, considering how little they knew each other; then again, the same went for Jongin.

"I just wanted to let you know that it would be a shame if any of this caused the guy striking up conversations with me to be lost," Yixing said, and Minseok was still trying to process the meaning of this when Yixing got to his feet, absently righting his clothes.

"I don't want to keep Jongin waiting for too long, so I'll say goodbye for now. Feel free to stop by my lab though."

Minseok nodded even though he had no plans of doing so - at least not as long as Jongin was with him.

With a friendly wave, Yixing was gone, leaving Minseok to ponder the meaning of his words. Obviously, Yixing had noticed the way Minseok had tried to approach him, to be more open and sociable. And he somehow felt like Minseok would take all of this back now. Which he... wanted to.    
Yes, the real problem wasn't that Jongdae had lied to him or kept secrets from him. The thing bothering Minseok so immensely was that he felt humiliated.

He felt embarrassed over having been so open to a person he potentially didn't know anything about. It made him want to take it all back, Yixing was right about that.

But he was stuck with this life now, and avoiding Jongdae forever would not only work poorly, it would also make Minseok feel even more pathetic.

That's why he was still in the living room when Jongdae returned an hour later, sitting on the cushion by the window. The sun was hanging low on the sky, peeking through thick, grey clouds, and Chanyeol was still out. It was as good a time as any.

Jongdae looked exhausted, and only met his eyes for a brief moment, obviously assuming that Minseok would ignore him.

"You're back early."

Jongdae looked surprised, too surprised to have an immediate reply ready, and when he opened his mouth, a low rumble went through the castle, making him cringe.

Minseok must have looked worried, because Jongdae waved him off.

"Just another earthquake, don't worry about it," he mumbled, sinking into one of the chairs - not directly nextto Minseok, but not evading him either.

"They seem to be giving you a lot of trouble despite being so harmless," Minseok stated, not wanting to sound nosy or demanding. Jongdae shot him an unreadable glance, and then lowered his gaze to the table, with a small nod and a soundless sigh.

"Have there been earthquakes bad enough to cause a lot of damage?" Minseok dared to ask, and Jongdae closed his eyes.

"Not since the war."   
“Did you end up catching the politicians?”   
  
Jongdae lightly shook his head.   
  
“I let them know that Jongin is with us now, that we already know who’s behind it all. I think I made my stance on this pretty clear. It’s unlikely that they’ll try it again,” he muttered. “Sorry. I didn’t want to potentially start the war they were aiming for.”   
  
“I understand. It’s fine with me,” Minseok said simply, because he didn’t want revenge. Safety was all that mattered to him, and Jongdae had been involved in politics for years - he would know the best course of action.

He wanted to say something else, but a part of him was becoming stubborn and unwilling to lead this conversation along. It made him feel vulnerable and desperate. So he waited, and the following, heavy silence choked his thoughts one by one.

After what felt like minutes, Jongdae straightened up and turned his upper body towards Minseok.

"You're still mad at me, right?"

It was a straightforward question to which Minseok had no straightforward answer. So he shrugged.

"I don't think mad is the right term."

Jongdae looked conflicted, subtly wringing his hands in his lap.

"I'm sorry about my... about him."

It was completely estranging how someone as outspoken and balanced as Jongdae refused to even mention his brother, but it was probably ingrained into his mind not to ever speak of him.

"Don't apologize for something that's out of your control."

Jongdae looked a little hesitant, and there was something else in his gaze that Minseok didn't understand. He didn't understand what he  _ wanted  _ to hear, either. He was just... confused.

So he got to his feet and walked over to the kitchen aisle to fill the kettle with water.

"I'll brew us a cup of tea," he announced, trying not to sound too distanced.

Jongdae only hummed and didn't really say anything while Minseok prepared the tea. Maybe he was a little confused, as well.

Instead of bringing the cups to the table, he walked over to the window, setting them on the small, low table amidst the cushions. When he was settled in, he looked over towards Jongdae.

"Tell me about you and him."

It was a suggestion more than a demand, and Jongdae had every right to deny him.

After a split second of hesitation, Jongdae got up to take a seat across Minseok, carefully reaching for the steaming cup.

"Okay."

It came out quiet, but strangely determined. Minseok tried to relax, idly toying with the chain of the tea egg as he listened to Jongdae's story.


	26. Chapter 26 - [Gold]

The queen of Berien had always been a kind, but fragile, person, happy to let her entire family rule the land together with her. It introduced a powerful change to the country's democracy. When she died upon giving birth, the people mourned for her, because despite the difficult times they had all gone through, she had been loved.

She received not just one, but two children, two little twin boys.

With the father having died just recently, too, the duty fell upon the family to raise the kids together. Unfortunately, one of the babies fell sick with a flu too nasty for a tiny child to bear.

Again, the kingdom mourned the loss of one of their royals whom they had never even gotten to see.

That was just the official version though - at this point, the royal family had already decided over their lives. In reality, both brothers were alive and healthy, and raised far away from prying eyes, in the depths of the castle.

At the age of six, the brothers were playing and arguing and making up, because at the end of the day, they only had each other. They shared a room with no windows, a bed clearly made for adults, and a wardrobe of identical-looking clothing. They also shared a name, and because they didn't know any better, they didn't think anything was too strange about that.

There was one thing they didn't share, however. One of them had been born with a special power, one that no one else had. Even among other blessed people, the child was incredibly strong, and had to be trained and supervised from birth. For the longest time, even his relatives didn't dare touch him in fear of the raw energy slumbering beneath his skin. Jongdae had never been scared of touching his twin, and maybe the fact that they had always been together made him immune to the other. It would be his only special ability, because unlike his brother, Jongdae was completely normal. That was alright though, because on their tenth birthday, they were told that one of them would be allowed to live among the rest of the family and eventually become the nation's prince. In turn, however, that person would have to give up on their special talent forever.

"I'll do it, Jongdae," the soft-spoken brother offered immediately, without hesitation. "You have special powers. If I go, I won't lose anything at all! Being a prince is probably really boring, anyway."

The other agreed begrudgingly - he wanted to freely roam the castle, as well, but giving up on his power was a price he didn't want to pay.

It was around that time when Luhan and Zitao moved to the castle, following the royal families' announcement that they'd offer shelter, protection, and guidance to those with powers, no matter their origin and background.

They were both roughly around the twins' age, and quickly let in on their secret. They spent their days playing together, keeping their abilities at bay so as not to hurt the one kid without power. It was obvious that the blessed twin took a liking to these two kids who could keep up with him, though.

It was also around that time that one of them got his own name. To the Selven boys, the concept of not having a name was alienating, and because they played so much more with the powerful twin, they gave him a nickname. They called him Chen, and Jongdae was undoubtedly jealous. Not only because he wanted a name of his own as well - one that was unique to him and that his brother couldn't have - but also because it felt like his brother was taking a step away from him. It didn't stop him from trying to insert himself into their little group of friends, though. He never failed to join in on them playing in the underground. The maze of machinery and corridors carved into the mountain used to be the twins' secret but that, too, was shared with Luhan and Zitao, who only spurred on Chen's reckless behaviour. On one such day, Jongdae suddenly tugged at his brother, empowered by fear, and as a result, saved his life.

Apparently Jongdae, too, had been possessing a special ability all along, and that day, it was awoken.

Needless to say, he was ecstatic.

From then on, he had to face a few painful realizations though. While Zitao and Luhan were definitely more interested in him after that, Jongdae had to realize that they still favoured Chen over him, and that their friendship hadn't been as focused on their shared abilities as Jongdae had always told himself.

Actually, nothing really changed, not even between his brother and him, and back then, that was a tough pill to swallow for Jongdae. The more devastating part, however, was that a steady feeling of dread was blooming inside his chest as he awaited the day where he would be married off, his newly discovered ability taken from him.

Now he had something to lose.

His brother was infinitely more powerful than him, so there was never even a question as to who would enter the bond, but it didn't stop Jongdae from secretly growing to hate the idea.

This might have been the first step  _ he  _ had taken away from his brother, and it only got worse when the adults let them in on their individual purposes. By the time Jongdae got to move to the castle at the age of fourteen, he felt incredibly lonely. His brother was closer to Zitao and Luhan than to him, leaving Jongdae to be the awkward addition to what was clearly meant to be a trio. Though if he was being honest, he had always been the odd one out, powers or not.

In order to keep up their scheme in the future, as well, the twins were duty-bound to engage in the same exercises as the other, albeit never at the same time - that meant physical exercises for Jongdae, and the entire batch of education and royal etiquette for Chen. Needless to say, they weren't keen on any of it, but Jongdae knew that he had to be a functioning young prince. He envied his brother's freedom, but at the same time he felt a small sense of superiority for being allowed to take the wheel and step up as the one, real Jongdae. The fragile, ugly concept he had build up in his loneliness cracked when Chen turned out to be a stellar pianist. It was just a small thing, just one of many disciplines, but Jongdae couldn't stand losing against his brother. He might have smiled and laughed it off, but it ate away at him from inside.

Yixing had been one of the people occasionally inhabiting the practice room. He was another one of the young, gifted adoptees of the castle, and easily a better pianist than both of the twins, so Jongdae asked him for help. Looking back now, he would say that Yixing had indeed helped him... by making him realize that he'd rather sing instead. That by doing something with no competitive motivation, he was getting much closer to being an individual than before.

In Yixing, Jongdae found his first friend, and they soon became inseparable. He didn't introduce him to his brother or his friends, because he didn't want to share his first friend, and he didn't need the underground world to make himself interesting enough to befriend. The dirty, wild world didn't suit calm, wise Yixing, anyway, and neither did it fit Kyungsoo, the quiet adoptee they met one day. There were interesting people above ground as well, gifted ones, too, and Jongdae was starting to build his own life as the royal prince Jongdae. Over the years, he calmed down, too, and the world centered around his twin became but a distant memory.

He experienced crushes that weren't on his brother's friends, he met people and passed tests, he told jokes and listened to others talk about their problems.    
Despite feeling like his own, individual person, the lingering dread never left. It might have boiled down to a tiny flame, but the awareness was always there, an icy little prick he'd feel whenever he stared at the ceiling at night - one day, he would be married off and have to give up his elevated senses. He might be able to choose a lover of his own, but it would always have to stay hushed, under the covers, hidden in the underground like the brother he had estranged himself from to the point where they didn't even talk anymore. Still, he thought that he and his brother were doing fine, that they were simply occupied with their own lives. He told himself to try and get closer to him again, but then he caught his brother with his soon-to-be husband, who was involved in a terrible accident not too long after.

That night, his brother had punched him for the first time.

Jongdae had repeated again and again that he had nothing to do with the incident. He was confused, mad, and his pride was wounded.

That night left both of them bruised, and with a simmering anger that made sure they didn't talk to each other again.

And this was how Jongdae entered his marriage - bitter, nervous, and with bruises hiding beneath his clothes. But he had to stay strong. No matter what happened, he was a prince, and he had to function as such. That's what he kept repeating inside his head, but when the ink was painfully injected into his skin and his senses forcibly dulled down, so did his rationality.

He'd never meant to cry in front of one of his husbands, but on that day, he didn't have the strength to crawl away any further.

Now he really wasn't going to be Jongdae, the twin, anymore. Starting from that day onwards, he was Jongdae, the  _ prince _ , for the rest of his life. And he had given up on the single part of him that he'd treasured. That one thing he'd had that his brother couldn't have, no matter what he did. That part that had made Jongdae inherently valuable and had given him a sense of worth when he'd had none.

There would be no turning back anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things will probably be beta'd again from here on out, because my wonderful friend and favourite beta in the whole world has taken pity in me and picked it up!  
> She's the absolute best, and that was all I was gonna say in this note.  
> ♡


	27. Chapter 27 - [Silver]

Minseok had never been to the forge - to be precise, he had never even  _ seen  _ a forge from inside, so he wasn't sure what he was expecting. To him, who had grown up in an industrialized nation, the concept of a forge equaled backwardness or, at most, expensive custom-made jewelry. Sure, he had peeked inside this particular forge once or twice, but this was the first time that he really entered it, and the first thing he noticed was that there was absolutely no jewelry in sight. Instead, he was greeted with a complete mess of bronze, silver, and the occasional golden device in between the chaos that was stuffed on the shelves, dangling from the ceiling and stacking up in the corners. It was a bit of a shock and made prim and proper Minseok feel like sneezing. On a closer inspection, there really wasn't all that much dust though.

Over his head, an assortment of cogs jingled gently as he touched the single gear dangling down. Immediately, Chanyeol's head whipped up and around, and the friendly expression turned to one of surprise.

"Oh, Minseok? Is everything alright?"

It should be rude, the fact that he hadn't even bothered to greet him, but Minseok found it both logical and kind that he'd be worried first and foremost.

He stilled two steps into the forge, feeling irrationally caught in the act.

"Yeah. I just... wanted to stop by. If that's okay."

Chanyeol nodded slowly, almost dubiously, as he turned that statement around in his head, observing it from different angles. Minseok figured that he had to be a little more straightforward with him.

"I wanted to see how you're doing. Maybe talk a little. Just. Hanging out, you know?"

God, this had come out so unnatural and stilted. Minseok was tempted to turn on his heels and pretend he had never even shown up. Maybe he could act like he, too, had a twin.

Thankfully, understanding bloomed on Chanyeol's face, as evident by the dragged out 'oh'.

"Sure. I'll just finish this, if you don't mind...?" he asked, pointing to something Minseok couldn't even see, but he nodded, anyway.

"Of course."

In the end, Chanyeol took over an hour to finish what he was doing, but Minseok didn't mind. He quietly walked around the forge, examining this and that, and finally taking a seat in the only available chair to whip out his sketchbook. There was a lot to draw and he'd ingrain the entire room into his memory if he could.

He was already working on the finer shadows when one of the two doors opened, and Kyungsoo stepped out, looking slightly disgruntled and covered in grime.

"We need to touch up on the apparatus, Yeol-"

When his eyes fell on Minseok, he squinted a little, as if trying to figure out whether he was seeing correctly.

"Hello," he said, curt and simple, with a questioning undertone that Minseok interpreted all-too easily.  _ What are you doing in my workshop? Are you a customer? _

Minseok had seen Kyungsoo before, but only now was he aware that this was one of Jongdae's childhood friends.

"That's Minseok," Chanyeol explained readily, and when Kyungsoo's face remained blank, Chanyeol added, "You know, my husband? That Minseok."

It was almost comical how blank his face remained, except for the lightest raise of his brows.

"Ah. Yeah. I'm not good with names and faces, sorry."

Belatedly, he sent him a nod.

"Nice to meet you."

Minseok was the last one to criticize awkward behaviour, so he only nodded back at him.

"What's he doing here though? I thought there's no need for babysitting anymore?"

Chanyeol feigned being hurt.

"And here I thought you were babysitting me?" he asked dramatically, pushing something aside and getting to his feet, "but I get it, the workplace is no playground. We're leaving."

Kyungsoo hadn't sounded angry, and neither did Chanyeol, so Minseok assumed that this was the way they talked to each other.

"Do that. We can talk about the project later," Kyungsoo said with a shrug. "I'll go take Thoven for a walk."

Minseok waited until they were halfway back to their rooms before he spoke up.

"You have a dog living in the forge?"

"Oh, yeah. He was probably asleep just now," Chanyeol replied, lighting up at the mention of Thoven. "He's totally adorable, and Kyungsoo made him a prosthetic leg so he can play like other dogs."

At this, Minseok shot him a disturbed look.

"He's a mechanical surgeon? I had no idea."

Unlike being a smith, this was one of the most prestigious occupations in Revria.

Chanyeol only shrugged.

"I think Kyungsoo is a little bit of everything. If he wants something done, he'll just venture out and do it, whether he's qualified or not. He's a hopeless blacksmith though - but don't tell him I said that," Chanyeol laughed.

"I see," Minseok hummed, because this was new to him.

"That's why there's always something to do for me. Kyungsoo has enough ideas and projects to keep me busy forever."

"As long as you enjoy it," Minseok trailed off. He had meant to be more social, but Chanyeol was a whole different breed. He wasn't sure whether the other was talking such an overwhelming amount because he didn't really care about receiving replies or whether he was desperately trying to fill the communicative void that was inevitable when it came to dealing with Minseok.

It was silent for approximately two seconds.

"Are you hungry?"

Minseok tried to think back to the last thing he'd eaten. He'd had a light salad for breakfast, so technically...

"A little."

Chanyeol rapidly changed directions, causing Minseok to almost bump into him.

"Great, let's get some snacks!"

  
  


Not too long after, they found themselves in Chanyeol's room, sitting on the carpet by the window, a variety of snacks stacked up on the low windowsill.

Proposing that they retreated to one of their rooms took a bit of awkward fumbling on Minseok's end, but Chanyeol wasn't the type of person who bothered with teasing people - he usually assumed that he was the one being unnecessarily confused, and when the confusion cleared up, Chanyeol was quick to move on.

He was quick to move forward, too, and the moment they were seated, the next question rolled off his tongue.

"Was there anything in particular you wanted to talk about?"

Mildly startled, Minseok shrugged.

"Not really?"

His hesitation must have shown, because Chanyeol nodded knowingly, and looked out of the window for exactly five seconds, before he started unwrapping one of the sandwiches they had brought. Minseok used the brief moment of silence to take in Chanyeol's room. Sure, he had seen it before, but only briefly. When Jongdae had announced that Chanyeol had already picked the room upstairs, Minseok had assumed that he'd be left with a smaller, darker room. Much to his surprise, though, Chanyeol's room felt smaller than his, and darker, too, despite being right above his own room, which had more windows than walls. That might be due to the sheer amount of objects he seemed to have gathered already, from metal parts, tools and an arrangement of polished stones to multiple rows of metal toys lining up on the shelf above his headrest. The ceiling was only barely high enough to accommodate to Chanyeol's height, and the entire design of the room reminded Minseok of a cave, even though almost the entire left wall of the room was made of a large window. It was pretty obvious why he chose this room, if anything Minseok had heard about the cave-like infrastructure of Sylvell to be true.

"How are you holding up?" Minseok asked eventually, reaching for one of the boxes and prying the lid off.

"Good," Chanyeol replied immediately, chewed and swallowed to speak with a much clearer voice. "Doctor said I won't get my memories back, but it's not like I'm surprised at this point."

Minseok hummed, staring at the assortment of little bread-like balls.

"Have you seen Jongdae's brother?"

"Since Jongdae kicked him out that day? Not really," Chanyeol trailed off. He wordlessly pointed out a cheese-covered ball, and Minseok took his recommendation without commenting on it.

"I mean, he came to see me once, but I wasn't really in the mood to talk to him."

"He came to see you?" Minseok echoed in surprise. "Why?"

"No idea. Like I said, I kinda sent him away," Chanyeol admitted.

He sounded sheepish and almost a little guilty. Feelings Minseok wasn't going to hold against him.

"You can always approach him if you change your mind," Minseok shrugged, plucking the little cheese-ball out of the box to take a bite.

"Did he come to see you, too?" Chanyeol asked carefully, and Minseok shook his head.

"He doesn't have a reason to, really. I don't think he ever liked me much."

Instead of vivid denial, Chanyeol only hummed noncommittally, taking a huge bite off his sandwich.

"He kinda likes  _ you  _ though, right?" Minseok asked awkwardly. "Jongdae said he saw you two together before the ceremony."

Chanyeol perked up at that.

"He did? What did we do?"

Minseok shook his head.

"He didn't say. Apparently, it caught him by surprise, as well."

"He said I loved him," Chanyeol burst out. "He said I used to love him."

Minseok should have seen this coming, and deep down, he had suspected something like this, but hearing it said out loud was still surreal.

"You did? And then you forgot all about it after the accident? Do you believe him?"

Chanyeol shook his head, the sandwich in his hands all but forgotten.

"I don't know. I have no idea. I only arrived a few days before the ceremony, when was I supposed to fall in love with him? You think he tricked me into thinking he was Jongdae?"

"You mean, like he has been doing ever since we arrived?" Minseok asked cynically.

"I mean, it's not their fault," Chanyeol trailed off, and Minseok sighed.

"I know. It's just so confusing."

"Yeah..."

It got silent after that, with both of them halfheartedly nibbling on their food.

"I want to know what's going on," Minseok hummed eventually. "I feel like they only told us half the truth."

"Yeah. Some things just don't add up," Chanyeol agreed thoughtfully. "I want to know what Jongdae's brother is doing down there."

"He lives in the catacombs of the castle?" Minseok asked, and Chanyeol nodded.

"Apparently. I thought you knew that already, because you're... closer to Jongdae."

"To Jongdae," Minseok repeated, "not to Chen."

"Is that his name? I guess that explains why Jongdae hates it when people call him that."

Chanyeol was definitely more perceptive than he looked, Minseok thought to himself. Maybe exchanging information with him wasn't a bad choice after all.

"I also want to know why everyone is so convinced that my memory loss did not happen by accident," Chanyeol added with a frown, staring out of the window and into the mountains and woods lining the horizon. "What did I do to make someone wipe my memory? What did I see?"

"Maybe Chen. Maybe you saw what's down there. Maybe it's something else entirely," Minseok mused.

"At least you hate me a little less now, so that’s one good thing coming out of this," Chanyeol said out of nowhere, and Minseok turned to shoot him a confused look.

"Now that we found out about Jongdae, I mean."

"I didn't  _ hate  _ you," Minseok disagreed, but Chanyeol only softly shook his head.

"I'm saying it like this, but it's been my fault, too. I just... I guess we were both idiots, huh? Competing for Jongdae and not even realizing we weren't facing him most of the time. Kinda ridiculous."

The way he spoke about this was so disarmingly casual that Minseok found himself humming in agreement. If he'd been asked whether he had ever been jealous of Chanyeol or whether he liked Jongdae, he would have had a hard time admitting it. Like this, he could simply join in.

"I don't even know whether I ever got to know him," Minseok sighed. "Guess I've been completely deluding myself this entire time."

"I think that's a little harsh," Chanyeol commented, leaning back on his hands. "After all, your conclusions are all based on actual happenings. Jongdae and Chen are real people. You just need to go back and try to separate your experiences to sort them out."

"You make it sound so easy," Minseok sighed, leaning his upper body on the windowsill.

"Yeah, right? I'm just a simpleton," Chanyeol chuckled. "And not even one who's in a position to make suggestions."

"You'll figure it out," Minseok said with a certainty that surprised even him.

"We both will," Chanyeol corrected him.

Maybe Chanyeol really was a simpleton. Minseok used to scoff at people like him, but in that very moment, his attitude seemed soothing and almost enviable.


	28. Chapter 28 - [Brass]

Yixing might be the strangest person Jongin had ever met.

The first time he'd seen him, he'd been too terrified to pay attention to anything but the liquid in his hands.

The second time, there was another potential venom at both of their lips, and Jongin was aware that the soft gaze in the alchemist's eyes could be nothing but a bluff. It wasn't like he'd had much of a choice back then, however. When he knocked back the sour liquid, he comforted himself that if he were to die from it, at least someone would have looked at him with fondness during his last moments, whether it was faked or not.

As things were, however, Jongin was still very much alive, and so he had room for confusion in his mind. A lot of confusion.

Yixing hardly ever left his side after that, and surely, it was because he distrusted him still. Jongin knew he did. It was common sense.

He was probably just really, really good at hiding it.

Because the way he talked to Jongin was devoid of any spite, lacked any wariness or even awareness that Jongin was a trained assassin. He could have probably killed Yixing a dozen times already, be it at night or during the day.

Obviously, he didn't do that. They had promised him a deal, and what they had said during the interrogation had been true - he had no reason to trust the people who did this to him over those who had spared his life.

The mark around his neck was itching painfully whenever Jongin thought too much about it, whenever he tugged at his powers in a petulant attempt. Even that didn't go unnoticed by Yixing, who would offer to apply a soothing lotion, to give him a remedy dulling the pain, and Jongin would decline him each and every single time.

What started out as aggressive, distrustful refusals, however, had morphed into something smaller over time. Something more defensive. Jongin felt himself grow accustomed to Yixing and it scared him.

 

* * *

"They're nothing but trouble, aren't they?" Yixing hummed, taking the tea infuser out of their cups. Holding all three of them without dripping on the table was close to impossible, so Jongin instinctively held a saucer beneath them, which Yixing took from him with a soft thanks.

"They are. One would think that at least Zitao and Luhan would have learnt to lay low by now," Junmyeon groaned, gingerly blowing air at the steaming cup before him.

Junmyeon stopped by the lab so often that he was the face Jongin saw the most, right after Yixing himself. Yixing never complained, no matter how busy he was, and always had kind words (and a cup of tea) for anyone visiting him.

"They're wild souls," Yixing commented with a smile, and took a seat at the high table.

"More like reckless kids," Junmyeon muttered under his breath. "And don't get me started on the problem child."

There was more to Yixing than his prim and proper attitude, than his soft words and gentle gestures. Jongin was sure of that. He'd suspected it during the interrogation, and he was slowly starting to see behind the facade - nobody was  _ that  _ pure. Not even Yixing. He saw it reflected in the smallest details, like how he didn't seem to mind the supposedly reckless, childish behaviour. He could hear it in the sharpness of his voice whenever someone would try to talk him out of things.

There was more to Yixing, and Jongin was determined to see through him.

"That reminds me," Junmyeon began, "have you heard of the Selven doctor? He apparently went straight back to work as soon as he had slept and eaten."

"Sometimes, work can be your most comforting shelter," Yixing hummed. Jongin guiltily stared into his tea cup. He felt sorry for treating the doctor like that, and for such an extended period of time, at that. Still, he had made sure the other wasn't physically harmed or starving. Without using his powers, this was all he could have thought of-

"Jongin, do you mind getting some snacks?"

He'd done it again. Jongin flinched, feeling caught red-handed, but followed his command immediately. It was like Yixing could feel whenever he was getting lost in thoughts, spiraling into a bad place.

"Do you think he'll be able to bring back the boy's memories?" he heard Junmyeon ask casually, and Yixing made a contemplative sound.

"I'd be surprised if he did, to be honest. The brain is very complex, and we're only so far as to know how to destroy parts of it, not how to rebuild them."

"So you could technically take his memories via alchemy as well?" Junmyeon asked. There was no indirect accusation to it, simply curiosity, which was probably why Yixing answered so easily.

"Why yes, absolutely. It's how we proceeded with the tattoo artist working on your problem child. Everything was consensual, obviously. Didn't I tell you that before?"

Jongin had a vague idea of who this problem child was, simply going by his own intuition, but he wasn't going to address that.

Silently, he put the small plate of baked goods on the table, sliding back into his seat.

"You did," Junmyeon agreed, absently reaching for a random, sweet treat. "But I always thought you could only take away a few days, at most."

"Oh, that's not quite right," Yixing corrected him. "Brewing this potion is excruciatingly difficult, and takes a lot of time, but by the end of it, your result is a highly concentrated essence that could wipe out decades with a single teaspoon. It's nearly impossible to control the dosage, which is why it's  _ always  _ diluted."

Jongin cringed. The mere thought of accidentally swallowing even a drop of such a solution was terrifying. Junmyeon seemed to share that feeling, judging by his horrified expression.

"Still, there is no such thing as a concentrated dandelion elixir in this kingdom," Yixing reassured him with a small smile. "I know the very few alchemists living here, and all of them are good, responsible people. Diluting it is considered part of the creation process."

It was fascinating to Jongin, how confident and open Yixing handled this conversation that, under different circumstances, could look like an interrogation.

"If you say so..." Junmyeon trailed off, and Jongin could feel the sudden change in Junmyeon as his hand flew up to his forehead. A headache.

"Sorry. I don't want to be a burden, but do you happen to have some more of your cornflower tea?" Junmyeon asked, looking a little guilty. Yixing got to his feet right away, because as much as he was able to sit still for hours on end, he also never procrastinated on tasks at hand.

"Of course I do. I'll bring you some."

"Thank you," Junmyeon sighed, and it was obvious how tired and nervous he was. Jongin's own powers may be sealed, but his senses were working just fine, and he could tell that Junmyeon was always stressed, that there was an immense power bubbling under the surface like an upset lake.

With Yixing, he never felt that range of emotion. Yixing's power was only noticeable when he touched him, and it never felt like anything but smooth silk.

While Junmyeon and Yixing talked about his teas and about Yixing's most recent experiments, Jongin zoned out, staring into his tea cup.

He felt like a useless child without his inborn gift, and he hated it.

 

* * *

 

"It never ceases to amaze me how much of my rambling Junmyeon can listen to," Yixing joked lightheartedly as he cleaned his work space, putting various concoctions and ingredients back to their designated spots.

Jongin had a hard time breathing.

"One would really think it's boring to him. I guess even boring things can seem interesting if they're out of your- Jongin?"

He slipped off the chair to sit on the ground. His vision was spotting up, the mark was pressing down, suffocating him-

"Jongin. Hey. Calm down. Does it hurt anywhere?"

He had pulled just a little too much, the seal had retaliated, and now he regretted it, he really did, he wished it would stop-

Cold, wet hands cupped his neck and throat, and instead of the pain intensifying, it felt cool and soothing.

He heard Yixing humming pensively. Calmy.

"Ah, it's okay. The seal is working, but it won't hurt you if you relax."

Relaxing while it felt like a rope made of needles was trying to choke you sure was easy for him to say. The pleasant sensation around Jongin's neck intensified, pushing against the pain, but then it left. Disoriented, Jongin blinked, looking after Yixing with a helpless whimper.

He was so pathetic.  _ God _ , he was pathetic.

Yixing returned back to his vision, shushing him and rubbing his shoulder.

"Don't think too hard. Here, this will make you feel better-"

Jongin pushed the glass bottle away with much more force than he'd intended to, sending it to the ground where it burst into countless, tiny shards.

The sound ripped Jongin back to reality, and he hunched away from Yixing.

"I'm sorry," he stammered, staring at the little blue puddle on the floor. It was probably priceless.

Yixing only rubbed his shoulder once more and leaned up to grab something else from the counter - a tin box of lotion.

"Is this okay?" he asked patiently.

Jongin couldn't help clenching and unclenching his fists, but he tried to hold still as Yixing applied the cream. It was prickly and cool, and quickly numbed his skin, dulling down the pain.

Jongin didn't struggle when the other's hand slipped beneath his shirt and finally popped open enough buttons to reach every branch of it. With his eyes closed and the numbing sensation crawling around his neck, it became easier to just breathe.

"You're doing great," Yixing hummed. Instead of replying, Jongin simply kept going, breathing, focusing on the fingers rubbing into his skin, on the cool air hitting the lotion.

When his eyes fluttered open, Yixing was busy buttoning his shirt back up.

"I can do this on my own," Jongin said quietly, and Yixing hummed in acknowledgement, but kept going.

"Why are you so afraid of potions?" he asked quietly, probingly even, and Jongin's gaze flitted to the floor, drawn in by the glass shards twinkling in the spilled remedy.

"Because I don't know what they'll do to me," he muttered, too tired to fight and avoid the question.

"They could poison and kill me. When I was tasked to kill the royal prince, someone put a potion in my drink, knocking me out so hard that they could scratch this seal into my skin while I was asleep."

Yixing didn't show any obvious pity. He just nodded in vague understanding while Jongin was revisiting a memory he'd love to forget.

"I didn't feel a thing-"

"It tasted like citrus, didn't it?"

Jongin blinked.

"What?"

"The drink they gave you. It probably tasted like a citrus fruit, didn't it?" Yixing repeated patiently, leaning his back against the counter in a comfortable manner, completely disregarding the fact that they sat on the floor, next to glass shards.

Jongin shook his head.

"I don't remember."

Yixing sighed.

"I'm sorry for making you drink so many potions even when you were scared of them."

Jongin felt embarrassment creep up his cheeks with its signature warmth, but Yixing didn't allow him to dwell on it.

"Maybe you should learn about alchemy."

Now Jongin was completely lost.

"What? How did you get to that conclusion?"

Yixing smiled.

"Learn about your enemy and take it down from inside," he recited - at least it sounded like a recital, and one that Jongin could actually get behind. Still, the mere concept of Yixing sharing his knowledge with someone as potentially dangerous as Jongin was ridiculous.

"So you want me to be able to create counter-potions?" he asked, still bewildered.

"Your enemy in this case is not alchemy," Yixing corrected him gently, getting to his feet. "It's your fear. You should think about it. I'll gladly teach you. Ah, but first I should clean up this mess," he trailed off. Like this, the serious atmosphere had turned airy again, and Jongin scrambled to get to his feet.

"I spilled it, I'll clean it up-"

 

They ended up cleaning the floor together, and then the rest of the lab. At some point, it spontaneously turned into an early spring cleaning day, and by the end of it, they sat down around the squeaky-clean table for a cup of fruity tea.

"Is making tea similar to alchemy?" Jongin asked eventually, scraping up all his courage.

Yixing nonchalantly shook his head.

"Not really. But I can teach you that, too."

"Okay," Jongin said.

And just like this, it had been decided.   
Because Yixing was strange like that, and made everything so  _ easy _ . 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can consider the [Brass] chapters a little Bonus ☆
> 
> (also sorry for the late update - I was working late today ._.)


	29. Chapter 29 - [Copper]

Chanyeol had thought quite a bit after that peculiar afternoon spent with Minseok. The other could be pretty nice, actually, who would have thought?

Knowing that he wasn't entirely alone in this felt good, too. Aside from Kyungsoo, Minseok was the only one Chanyeol fully trusted at this point. And even Kyungsoo obviously still kept things from him.

He still ate breakfast and dinner with Jongdae, and while he was friendly, something had definitely changed. Things were awkward, and Chanyeol hated it.

Minseok had told him about Jongdae and Chen, the twins who grew up together, only to be separated later on. He didn't understand why anyone would come up with such an elaborate scheme. What bugged him even more, however, was the fact that Chen seemed to be so infatuated with him. Chanyeol still felt like a fool for blindly reciprocating the other's advances but he knew that he needed actual answers to fully make up his mind.

He spent the next day at the forge, firmly determined to pay a visit to the terrace later that night to confront Chen.

He didn't even get that far, though, because Chen came to him that day.

It was at some point in the late afternoon that a knock pulled Chanyeol out of his thoughts.

The door to the forge was open, and in the doorway stood a person wearing a hood that covered most of his face.

Chanyeol knew right away that he was looking at Chen, but he could only thank the other's attire for that. It was that thought that kept him guarded. Slowly, he got to his feet, subconsciously looking towards Kyungsoo's room. Chen followed his gaze, and lifted a finger to his lips.

Chanyeol could call for Kyungsoo - surely, the other would be all-too ready to kick out the royal a second time. That wouldn't solve anything though, so Chanyeol strode across the workshop in a few cautious steps until he stood before Chen. His bright eyes looked conflicted, and at the same time naturally more intense than Jongdae had ever looked at him. Despite the different aura, however, they matched each other in terms of appearance. They really did look identical.

Wordlessly, Chen offered his fist, opening it to reveal a little thing made of metal.

A small cat.

Chanyeol's breath hitched. He was about to say something, when he remembered that Kyungsoo would probably hear him.

Chen pushed his hand forwards in an offering gesture until Chanyeol took the little object. Then he took a step back, pulled the hood further down to cover his face again and made a gesture asking Chanyeol to follow him.

The first few steps, Chanyeol just watched him go, rooted to the spot.

When Chen halted, Chanyeol finally followed to catch up with him. The other was navigating the castle in a calm, reassured manner while Chanyeol was all but stumbling after him. The walk was silent, and he wasn't dumb enough to draw attention to them. Chen freely roaming the castle during daytime seemed incredibly risky.

Chanyeol had expected them to go downstairs, to slip into the dark, rough corridors to find the terrace, and they did. But instead of turning left, Chen took the right corridor, leading them even further down into the dark. It was then that Chanyeol felt a spark of fear. The other had lit a small oil lamp at some point, but he didn't seem to need its light to navigate the winding tunnels and stairs.

"Where are we going?" Chanyeol asked after nearly tripping over an uneven stair.

"A safe place," came the vague reply, and Chanyeol swallowed. He could only hope that this guy wasn't a crazy stalker who would drag him into the depths of the castle to do god knows what to him.

With one palm on the rough stone wall and the other feeling the metal cat warming up in his sweaty palm, Chanyeol followed along until they finally came to a halt in front of an open door leading to a lit room. Absently, Chen extinguished the oil lamp and placed it on the ground, pulling his hoodie back.

The room they entered was illuminated by soft hues of yellow and pale blue, coming from multiple light sources. It was also an incredibly contorted room full of nooks and crannies, with stairs leading down and shelves and pipes lining the walls. It looked like an abandoned machine room that someone had made their home. And by the dull sounds vibrating behind every wall, that thought might not be too far-fetched.

Silently, Chen threw his jacket over a chair facing what seemed to be a desk, and walked past it, taking the narrow stairs. Chanyeol didn't follow him immediately. The room made him feel strange.

"Have I been here before?"

With a hand on the railing, Chen turned, looking cautiously hopeful, and it made his heart twinge for some reason.

"Do you remember?"

Chanyeol shook his head.

"I don't know. It's just a feeling. Why did you give me that cat?" he added, now that the silence was broken. "Were you the one who left me the other animals? Why?"

"Take a closer look at the cat. Don't you notice anything?" Chen asked.

Chanyeol did as he was told, holding the little cat against the light to inspect it further. He had most definitely never seen it before. Still... something about the little cogs marking the cat's leg muscles was familiar.

He turned it over to see a tiny signature etched into the metal.

A familiar one.

"I made this?"

 

Chen stared at the object in his hand, and then back at Chanyeol with the same, eery intensity.

"I didn't give this to you. You gave it to  _ me _ ."

Then he continued to walk down the stairs, and this time, Chanyeol followed him.

"You started this," Chen said calmly, approaching a surprisingly cozy-looking bed that was crammed into a corner. He stepped aside enough for Chanyeol to catch a look at the nook in the wall right over the mattress. A row of little animals was neatly lined up, with one obvious gap towards the left end.

 

Chen didn't try to stop Chanyeol from inching closer to inspect the animals. There was a little bug and a fish, a butterfly and a sheep, all neatly put together by using tiny panes and gears. On the far right, at the very end, Chanyeol spotted the first familiar one.

"It's the bird I made," Chanyeol breathed out, "The one Zitao took from me."

Behind him, Chen let out a tiny chuckle.

"He meant well. Nosy as ever, but that's what he's like."

"But... I don't understand. I just can't remember any of this," Chanyeol whispered, slowly reaching out to place the little cat back in its respective place. It fit perfectly. Looking at all of them, there was a notable improvement in their craft.

Everything about this was surreal, and the thought that they were  _ real _ , that these things he had done were  _ real _ , and that he could not remember a single thing was weirdly frightening. It had been alright when Chanyeol had found himself in a new life without warning, but seeing the consequences of actions he couldn't remember taking was terrifying in its own right.

What had he done? Was there anything left of the Chanyeol who had made these?

"It's not your fault. It's okay," Chen said quietly, and sat down at the edge of his bed.

"I thought it was a sign that you forgot everything," he added, shoulders slumping. "That's why I tried to pretend it never happened."

For the first time, he really looked like Jongdae, and yet it was so obvious that he wasn't.

"I didn't want this to happen again. I wanted to keep you safe."

Hesitantly, Chanyeol sat down next to him, keeping a polite distance between them.

"But I found out, anyway."

"You did," he agreed. For a heartbeat or two, it was silent.

"You did," Chen repeated quietly, sounding thoughtful as he shuffled his feet. "You even came to see me down here. Can't that be a sign, too?"

He sounded a little stubborn, a little wistful, and Chanyeol ached to  _ understand _ .

"If I already know too much, then you can tell me, right?"

"Tell you what?"

Even now, his tone was unreadable, and Chanyeol turned towards him, waited until Chen finally met his gaze under the dim, yellow light of a lonely light bulb far above them.

"How we met. When exactly I gave you the cat," Chanyeol said carefully. "Tell me about yourself."

 

For a while, Chen only looked at him, and Chanyeol wondered what he might be thinking. All of a sudden, the other closed his eyes and exhaled, hiding his face in his hands.

"This is so embarrassing," he whispered.

He rubbed his face with the heels of his hand and then rested them on his thighs.

"Okay," he said with a certain finality. "Listen up."

 

And Chanyeol listened.


	30. Chapter 30 - [Rose Gold]

Chen idly looked around the forge, and while it was full with foreign, interesting objects, his gaze kept wandering to the windows, to the sky. It was of a clear blue, with barely any clouds sprinkled across it. He wasn't here to stare out of windows, though, so he forced his gaze to remain guarded and his mind to stay focused.

The forge was silent and the atmosphere tense. Chen crossed his arms as he and his two guards waited for the two blacksmiths to confirm their order. The fact that the local blacksmith had delegated this task to his two students was impudent, at best. The prince himself had come to get something custom-made, and yet the old man told them that his students would be the best fit for this task. He had even given them a quiet pep talk, making it obvious that they had only recently passed their test. It was highly likely that this was their first order ever, and Chen was annoyed at the prospect of possibly receiving something sloppy. His two guards had been about to make a fuss but Chen had waved them off, staring at the two boys expectantly as they inspected the blueprint they'd been given.

They seemed to be equally young and tall, with one being more pale and lanky than the other. The pale one's expression was perfectly blank, while the other one furrowed his brows, tilting his head to read something to the side of the drawing.

They wouldn’t be able to do it. Chen wanted to roll his eyes and urge them on to just admit it so they could get an actual professional, when the dirt-streaked redhead spoke up.

 

"Where's the rest of it?"

 

Chen blinked.

"Huh?" he asked, completely unguarded and entirely un-Jongdae-like, before catching himself. "I mean, excuse me?"

The blacksmith turned the paper around and then checked if there were other pages sticking to it.

"Well, here's a concept of sorts, but I have no idea what I'm looking at. What is this supposed to be?"

His friend slightly raised a brow at his tone, but kept quiet.

Chen swallowed, keeping up the professional, cool face.

"Why would you need to know what we'll be doing with this? It's none of your concern."

"Are you serious?" the smith asked, looking doubtful. "How am I supposed to build something if I don't have accurate information on what it's supposed to do?"

If he said it like this, he had a point.

"As far as I can tell, this is something you will be using," the smith said, glancing at the drawing. "How am I supposed to guarantee your safety if I don't know what I'm doing? I need more information than this, this is ridiculous."

Chen heard the guards gasp, heard them act offended, really, but Chen couldn't help it...

...he snorted.

Hilarious. This boy was hilarious, giving them this kind of attitude. Now he was starting to like him.

The smith looked confused, while his friend looked slightly alarmed over the way he was chuckling.

"Alright then," Chen said, placing his arms on his hips. "We'll send a message to our engineer and request further details. You should write down your specific questions."

"Alright. I will," the boy assured him, not even bothering to thank them. This should be highly offensive, and it was obvious that his guards were seething at the treatment, but Chen was still grinning to himself. Pretentious people flaunting their fake attitude and social rules had always bothered him. That was a game for Jongdae, not for him.

Besides, requesting Kyungsoo to clarify his sketch would buy them time.

Time he was allowed to spend far away from home, under the blue sky, walking among people with his head held high.

  


* * *

 

"What are you doing?"

Chanyeol sighed.

"Working? No offense, but is it really necessary for you to watch my every step? Your highness?"

The formality was tacked on, clearly a result of people scolding him into using it. To Chen, who had rarely ever been addressed like that, the novelty hadn't worn off yet. He was sitting on a workbench, where he had a good view on what Chanyeol was currently doing while also being able to dangle his legs.

"Well, I gotta make sure you're qualified with my own eyes, right?" Chen replied without missing a beat. The reality was that this was the only place the guards would leave him alone in. It was the only way he'd be able to _breathe_. He had no idea how Jongdae could tolerate any of this.

"I haven't even started on your project yet," Chanyeol complained, finally looking up from a stone he was polishing.

"So? I don't see your point," Chen quipped back. Chanyeol groaned quietly.

Well, being able to tease the young blacksmith was a plus, too. He hardly ever met new people, and even when he did, he usually had to stick to playing coy to match Jongdae's boring attitude.

This guy, however, would never meet him or Jongdae ever again, and therefore he could be himself for just a little bit.

"So? What's this for?"

"It's confidential," Chanyeol stubbornly replied, going back to his task at hand. "You're asking an awful lot of questions considering how you're not willing to share the purpose of your order."

"No wisdom will be attained without asking questions," Chen shrugged. "And since you asked earlier, you'll get your info, so I don't see what the fuss is about."

"Aren't you the least bit interested in going sight-seeing or something?" Chanyeol asked, clearly growing exasperated. "Sylvell does have some nice places to offer-"

"Oh yeah? Then you should show me around," Chen suggested, brazen as ever.

At this, Chanyeol actually shot him an unimpressed look.

"You think just because you're royalty I'm obliged to drop everything - including my current task - to escort you around?"

The choice of words would have gotten him into trouble if anyone but Chen had been around to hear them. As things were, though, Chen only shook his head.

"No," he said, dragging it out in a display of fake worry. "I would _never_ expect that of anyone."

He hopped off the workbench and unashamedly leaned into Chanyeol's view. To his satisfaction, the other flinched back a little, eyes growing wide at the sudden proximity.

"You shouldn't do it because I'm a prince," Chen assured him lowly, brimming with the will to play.

"You should do it cause I'm asking you _so nicely_ ," he hummed, and Chanyeol's funny, large ears were already turning red at the tips.

"But you didn't ask nicely," Chanyeol countered, and it came out breathy, but defiant.

This was the part where he should back off, maybe tell the other that he could ask much less nicely, too, or maybe just laugh it off. For some reason, though, Chen was compelled to keep pushing, so he leaned down a little further, looking up with his voice dropping to a whisper.

" _Please_."

Chanyeol wasn't breathing during the beat of silence, and his eyes looked cloudy for a second- and then he shook his head like a wet dog.

"Okay, okay," he said, leaning away from Jongdae and refusing to look him in the eye, "you win. Just stop that."

Chen laughed as he straightened up, stretching his arms over his head.

"You’re funny," he mused, and Chanyeol sighed, subtly patting down his hair to cover his red ears.

"Ha, ha," he echoed, slightly sour. "I'm glad at least one of us is having fun."

He got to his feet to place the stone he had been working on aside.

"So, what's Berien's highness interested in seeing in our humble country?" he asked, voice dripping with petulant sarcasm, and Chen shrugged.

"You're the local - just show me what you deem worthy to look at," he suggested.

"And mind your attitude, peasant," he added lightly, when he saw Chanyeol roll his eyes.

Keeping the banter up was easy, and with the way Chen trailed after him, there was no way the blacksmith would be able to see the dusty shade of pink creeping up his own cheeks. Chen lightly shook his head.

Getting flustered over something like this...

He really was losing his touch.  
  


* * *

  


It had been purely selfish and manipulative of Chen to bug Chanyeol into showing him around. He'd been aware that being around a somewhat trusted person was his only chance at getting rid of the guards, and Io and behold, after just an hour of sight-seeing, the guards got bored enough to let him roam free as long as he stuck to the smith. Sylvell was a peaceful nation through and through, and barely anyone even recognized Chen as a Berien prince.

"Don't you have a market or anything?" he asked after they had decided to move on from a famous stone structure people had built a shelter into centuries ago.

"A market? I mean, sure, but I can't guarantee it's all that exciting," Chanyeol shrugged, but Chen insisted on wanting to see it.

All of Sylvell was interesting and different, but the closer he got to the sky and other people, the more exciting things were for Chen. He should probably detest large masses of people seeing as he wasn't used to them, but he didn't. In fact, he couldn't stop grinning as they strolled down the crowded streets, with him taking the lead and enjoying the sunlight hitting his skin, inhaling the foreign scents and just feeling _free_.

He stopped to marvel at an assortment of pretty glass vials.

"Those are really beautiful," he told the elderly lady behind the counter, who lit up at the compliment. To his surprise, Chanyeol agreed.

"They are. This level of intricacy can only be achieved by years of experience and patience."

The lady accused both of them of trying to charm her, and shooed them off with a smile. Chen smiled and waved, and he felt just so happy he might as well burst.

"Maybe I should buy something for my friends," he announced to no one in particular.

"What do they like?" Chanyeol asked, and his initially grumpy attitude had dissolved completely at this point.

Chen hummed.

"One of my friends really likes jewelry and exotic clothing," he began, moving on to picturing what Luhan would be happy to receive, "and the other... the other one gets something weird and ugly. Just kidding, I guess he's into different cultures, so something specific to this place maybe."

"And your family?"

Chen paused at that. There wasn't really a point in getting anything for his aunt and uncle who were close to being strangers to him, anyway. He could get Jongdae something though, right? They hadn't really been talking to each other a whole lot in the past two years, but...

"Yeah. I'll get something for them, too. I'll think about it."

After all, Jongdae was cooped up in his room for as long as Chen was on his journey, and while he didn't have a need to feel even remotely guilty about that, there was no reason not to bring a souvenir for his brother.

He ended up buying some foreign cutlery for Luhan, fancy earrings for Zitao with sparkly, green stones, and a simple, handmade scarf for Jongdae, hoping the other was still into simple things like that.

All the while, Chanyeol went along with Chen doing touristy stuff without complaining. He even suggested they get a bite to eat, recommending what turned out to be deliciously crispy, filled pieces of white bread.

"And? Was the little city tour to your satisfaction?" he asked a while later, when they sat on a bench facing the sky, where a multitude of colors was starting to pale, and a few, stray stars twinkled in the sky.

"Absolutely," Chen replied without hesitation, offering Chanyeol the paper bag filled with steaming hot bread rolls. Chanyeol plucked one of them out, muttering something about how he hoped it was a spicy one.

Unlike him, Chen appreciated the surprise, and blindly popped another into his mouth.

"Does that mean I can work in peace tomorrow?" Chanyeol asked, sounding amused rather than exasperated. Maybe he needed the little break after all.

Chen pretended to think about it.

"I don't know, I can't imagine this being all Sylvell has to offer-"

"Oh, please-" Chanyeol began, and Chen chuckled.

"Just joking. Fine, be boring like that," he whined, good-naturedly nudging his side.

"I'm working on a deadline here," Chanyeol defended himself, and Chen could feel him fidget next to him. "It's just this one project. After that, I'm free."

It was entirely stupid, how Chen's heart skipped a beat.

"Oh?" he asked, disguising his surprise as deliberate teasing, "and _then_ you'd willingly sacrifice your free time on me?"

"Sure, why not," Chanyeol sighed, fishing another snack out of the paper bag that Chen wordlessly angled so he could reach it better. "At least until I start on that thing you need."

Right. Chanyeol was providing a service for him, for the kingdom. He shouldn't let any of this get to his head-

"I feel stupid calling you highness," Chanyeol said out of nowhere, shoulders hunched up and gaze resting somewhere by their shoes. "Can't I just call you Jongdae?"

Chen's first instinct was to smile, but it probably looked small and pathetic. Good thing the other wasn't looking at him.

"Yeah," he said after a beat of silence. "Sure."

"Nice," Chanyeol commented awkwardly, and then cut into a groan, startling Chen.

"No, it's a sugar one! Why?!"

He was looking at the little snack in his hand as if it had chosen to insult him, and without thinking, Chen grabbed his wrist and put it to his mouth so he could snatch the snack away. It struck him right as he was doing it that this was weird, that it was way too intimate and intrusive, and he let go of the other's hand as if he'd been burnt. He was used to people either being complete strangers or extremely close friends.

And he had to remind himself that Chanyeol belonged to the first category.

"You're so greedy," Chanyeol chuckled airily - he was so much worse at this entire keeping a straight face thing. Which was probably due to the fact that he didn't have to do that all the time. Unlike Chen.

Who wasn't Chen right now. He was Jongdae, and he should remember that, too.


	31. Chapter 31 - [Silver]

The sky was always so clear in Berien.

Minseok lowered his pen and stared up into the vast, azure ocean. A fresh breeze was rustling through the leaves above him. Despite the nice weather, the terrace was completely empty, giving Minseok a sense of privacy he had never experienced outside of his room. In Revria, there was no such thing as an abandoned place - even the shabbiest locations would be filled with the noise of people at all times.

Revria didn't have such a pretty sky, either.

There were barely any clouds, and the very few he did see were of a pure white.

Minseok closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

He'd resented everything about Berien upon his arrival, but this... this was nice.

He still missed the technological advances of his home and the kind of standards people had, though now he could at least see that the people of Berien _had_ standards, even if they differed from the ones Minseok had grown up with.

Now that apparently no one was after them anymore, Minseok wondered whether he should ask permission to venture out into the capital. He was a pretty simple person and aware of the fact that anyone in his position would be sick of the castle already. Surely, people wouldn't deny him a visit to the capital.

Gathering impressions seemed vital to further understand their culture. To be able to design something that strikes all the right chords. Maybe Chanyeol would be interested in joining him.

Minseok  chuckled faintly to himself and blinked against the sunlight.

When had the prospect of company stopped being entirely appalling? Sure, Minseok still preferred being on his own, but once in a while... company didn't seem too bad. Sure, having Jongdae with him would be even better, but that was off the table for obvious reasons-

"Minseok."

With a flinch, Minseok turned around to see the exact person he'd been thinking of... again. At this point, it felt like being caught red-handed. Jongdae stood right behind his bench, hands tucked into his pockets with no sign of any documents or Junmyeon holding on to them for him.

"Hi," Jongdae began awkwardly, gesturing towards the wooden bench. "You mind if I join you?"

Minseok shook his head before he could give himself a chance to make things even more awkward. The sketchbook and pencil box were tugged into his lap so Jongdae had more room to sit.

"I didn't think you'd be here," Jongdae started, and Minseok tensed up a little.

"Sorry. I didn't want to ruin this place for you."

"What? No, I was looking for you."

Now Minseok felt even more wary, despite really not wanting to. It must have shown on his face, because Jongdae was quick to lift his hands in a defensive manner.

"I just wanted to talk. Nothing bad. I hope."

"Oh?" Minseok asked, silently encouraging him to keep going.

Jongdae sighed, looking like he was gearing himself up for something.

"I wanted to," he began, gestured as he was looking for the proper words, and when Minseok only looked at him in bewilderment, Jongdae gave up.

"I just wanted to ask you to forgive me. And give me a second chance."

"You didn't do anything wrong," Minseok replied immediately, but Jongdae lightly shook his head.

"But things are different between us now," he argued gently, not knowing where to look, "and I know I can't just ask you to go back to how it was."

Minseok wanted to say that it was fine, that ever since hearing about Jongdae's past, everything had cleared up entirely for him. But the awkwardness was still there, lingering between stiff smiles and small talk at the breakfast table.

He suddenly wished he was better at hiding this part of himself.

"In fact, this probably just sounds really selfish of me. I can't tell you what to do, and if I broke your trust in me, then that's my fault, and... yeah," Jongdae trailed off, reaching for words to convey his jumbled thoughts. If this had been a prepared speech, he'd lost track of it already.

"I just miss what we had," Jongdae admitted, finally looking him in the eye as he decided to drop all the useless words and get to the point. "I miss hanging out with you, and having you around, sharing our days and thoughts, that kinda stuff. It's not like I just want to vent to you or use you, I just... miss all this."

Really?

The question kept pinging around his head as Minseok sat there, probably looking as dumbfounded as he felt.

Did he mean this? The notion that Jongdae might have actually enjoyed his boring company seemed entirely surreal. That it hadn't just been Minseok silently trying to appeal to him, that Jongdae hadn't just humored him, hadn't intended to treat him with the polite distance he seemed to offer to anyone who wasn’t Yixing.

That he was allowed to feel a spark of hope.

"I know you can't fully get rid of me anymore," Jongdae continued, oblivious to Minseok's inner conflict, "and I can give you space and get off your back and let you live your life, but if there's anything I can do to make you consider forgiving me, then please tell me. I'll do anything."

Obviously, he didn't mean _anything_. Probably. Minseok's mind was obviously running on autopilot, dissecting and commenting on Jongdae's words to distract from the fact that he had no idea how to react. Now that Jongdae was looking at him, looking slightly flustered, but earnest, it seemed impossible to come up with a reply on the spot.

"I-" he began, but his brain wouldn't supply him with a proper response. What did one reply to such a confession? It wasn't exactly a confession in the romantic sense, but- no, he had to focus.

The silence seemed to stretch on forever, and he could see Jongdae subtly drawing away, could see him nod and open his mouth, and he was ruining this-

"Did you show me this place?" Minseok blurted out, cutting Jongdae off. "Was that you?"

Surprised at the unusually forceful tone, Jongdae looked around.

"You mean this place?" he asked, a little unsurely, pointing towards the cliff behind the terrace walls. "Yeah. Sure. That was me."

"And back at that masked ball, where you danced with Chanyeol, that was you, too?" he added, and Jongdae  actually seemed embarrassed.

"Yeah... it's not like I- I was just feeling stubborn and-"

"And when you told me that if you weren't a prince, you'd make music for a living," Minseok continued, ignoring Jongdae's awkward excuses because he didn't owe him an explanation, "that was you, too?"

"Yeah," Jongdae said hesitantly, looking confused. "Isn't that obvious?"

Minseok shrugged.

"Could have been him, pretending."

"You even touched my seal that evening," Jongdae chuckled, and oh.

"Yeah. Right. Sorry," Minseok trailed off, wringing his hands over his sketchbook. It was just hard to separate all these moments while looking back. They kept blurring together, and maybe Jongdae realized that, too, with how his smile mellowed out quickly.

"Sorry. It wasn't a silly question," he began, but Minseok blinked away the insecurity to meet Jongdae's gaze with a certain suspicion.

"Did I ever share a bed with him, thinking I shared it with you?"

The second of hesitation said it all, and Jongdae panicked.

"He always left shortly after you fell asleep. He didn't do anything weird, did he? I told him-"

"And that note you left me after I fell asleep in Yixing's lab, after the ritual?"

"That was me," Jongdae replied without hesitation, and Minseok nodded.

"When you criticized my sketches-"

"That wasn't me."

Another nod. He had figured that much, but it led to another question he still needed an answer to.

"That was the same day you suggested paying a visit to the terrace."

"Did he take you here? Or anywhere else?" Jongdae asked, sounding worried.

Minseok shook his head.

"He didn't. My point is that it was his idea to introduce me to this place. Was that some kinda ploy to piss you off?"

Again, Jongdae hesitated.

"I don't know... I don't know what's going on in his head," he shrugged helplessly. Minseok hummed, and braved to ask one final question.

"Were you mad about it though? About having to show me this place?"

Jongdae replied immediately.

"No! I was a little unsure at first, maybe even anxious," he admitted, "but I wasn't mad at you. I'm glad I shared it with you. I have no regrets."

"Okay," was all Minseok said, and then tore his gaze away to look at the sky, which was tinted by shades of rosé and gold. Minseok closed his eyes, enjoying the last rays of sunlight on his skin.

Before his inner eye, he bundled the new information he’d received, replaying his past interactions with Jongdae. To his right, he heard the other sigh, but Jongdae made no move to leave. Uncomfortable or not, he was ready to take on whatever Minseok was going to throw at him.

This exchange had made him realize something, however - he hadn't shared every moment with Jongdae, but all the ones that counted.

So instead of shooting him any more questions, Minseok chose to smile instead. This time, he meant it.

"We're good."

It was absolutely ridiculous how hopeful Jongdae looked.

"Really?"

 _Don't give me that attitude_ , Minseok wanted to say. _He_ should be the one to sound excited, since it was his heart that beat faster when Jongdae leaned into his side, head tucked into the crook of Minseok's neck.

Obviously, Jongdae didn't think anything of it. There were goosebumps prickling down his right side, and Minseok huffed, smiling to himself at the bittersweet feeling.

For such a smart prince and excellent politician, Jongdae could be really oblivious.


	32. Chapter 32 - [Rose Gold]

"I can't work with you staring at my fingers like that," Chanyeol complained, not looking up from where he was etching something into the metal.

"Oh?" Chen asked, unable to not take the bait. "I can stare at something else, then, no problem."

It didn't even make a whole lot of sense, but he was good at making things sound suggestive, and Chanyeol was terrible at ignoring him.

"It's a saying!"

He was actually squirming, and it made for the funniest contrast with his deep voice. "You really don't want me to get this done, do you?"

It was meant to be a joke, but Chen froze from his position on one of the work benches. If he was being honest with himself... Chanyeol was right. And for some reason, that exact truth slipped out, leaving him completely unguarded.

"Not really."

Chanyeol paused, and gave him this surprised, flustered look that made Chen feel like they were both equally lacking control over the situation.

Eventually, Chanyeol went back to the task at hand, biting his lip.

"Just let me get this part done," he muttered. "We can get something to eat after that."

"Sure," Chen replied, quick and airy, without allowing any depth into their conversation. "My treat."

 

* * *

 

Something small and grey was placed on the table before him.

"Here."

"What is it?" Chen asked as he was already picking it up, holding it to catch the light of the few candles around them.

"If you can't recognize it, I should be ashamed of myself," Chanyeol joked, but there was definitely a hint of nervousness lingering between the syllables. Chen angled his own body to not obscure the light even further, and yes, now it was obvious.

"A cat? For me?"

Chanyeol shrugged, and Chen further inspected the tiny depiction of a cat.

It was sitting on its hind legs, looking up at him, with a tail neatly curled around its paws. The head was tilted, giving it a strangely mischievous look, despite the overall simplicity.

He loved it.

"What did I do to deserve that?" he hummed, and it may not sound like he meant it, but he did.

"I guess you just reminded me of a cat," Chanyeol said, as if it was no big deal. He probably didn't think it was, and Chen couldn't blame him; after all, how was he supposed to know that Chen rarely ever got presents of any kind?

He cradled the little thing in his hands.

"Thanks."

He didn't think he was making a good job at expressing how much this little gesture meant to him, but the candles around them started burning a lot brighter, emphasizing how shiny Chanyeol's eyes looked and betraying him in the process.

"You're making me feel embarrassed," he complained quietly, willing the candle flame to go down again.

"Good," Chen countered with a smile.

"It makes me nervous when you go quiet like that."

Chen chuckled.

"Sorry," he trailed off, eyes wandering down to his hands that kept holding on to the cat.

Even when he started talking nonsense again, joking and prodding at Chanyeol, he didn't let go of the cat for the rest of the evening.

 

* * *

 

The next day, Chanyeol could finally work in peace because Chen spent the entire day in Sehun's company, in another room. At some point he stopped by, making it obvious how pathetically jealous he was, but Chen remained stubborn and kept to himself until Sehun left first. The sun was already setting when he finally joined Chanyeol, shoving something against his chest. He looked quite dumbfounded as he stared at the little thing sitting on his palm.

"Don't laugh," Chen threatened him before he could even open his mouth.

Chanyeol hesitated, and tilted his head a little, trying to understand what he was looking at.

"Is it- is it a cat?" Chanyeol asked, and Chen felt the heat rise to his face.

"It's a tiger," he squeezed out. "Don't you dare start laughing."

It was obvious that Chen was not a smith, and that his craftsmanship was clumsy, at best, but he’d given it his all, even occasionally asking Sehun for help - though he’d refused to tell him what exactly he was doing.

Chanyeol didn't laugh.

"I would have figured you think of me as a little dog or something," he mused instead, and Chen huffed, crossing his arms.

"Please. A tiger suits you better."

He didn't say why, because he was already embarrassed enough as it was, and instead added, "Guess I'm lucky tigers tolerate cats."

"They do?" Chanyeol asked guilelessly, and Chen shrugged.

"They could eat them, but it's not usually worth the effort. You want me to brush up on your lacking education now?"

"And I thought I was bad at giving presents," Chanyeol grumbled, sounding almost petulant and stubborn. "It's really pretty and I like it, okay?"

"Why do you say it like that? Weirdo," Chen muttered with an eyeroll, but Chanyeol wasn't deterred.

"So you believe me. It's pretty. Thank you, Jongdae."

That shut him up effectively. For more than one reason.

 

* * *

  


"Okay, hold out your arm."

For once, Chen obeyed without making a fuss. Chanyeol didn't even bother to have him lift his butt off the bench anymore, and simply stood before him, wrapping cool leather belts around the other's upper arm.

There were a few faint scratches on Chanyeol's arm, two of the fresher ones shaped like a little cross, Chen noticed. The scent of metal and wood was heady, mixing with what Chen already identified as Chanyeol's perfume.

"There we go," Chanyeol hummed, pulling the straps tight to loop the loose ends down his arm and through the metal frame of the little crystal container. His fingers felt rough against Chen's unreasonably sensitive skin, and he just hoped the other would interpret the goosebumps as a sign of him being cold.

"Hm. It fits, but I guess you won't be able to wear long sleeves anymore," Chanyeol joked dryly. Chen looked at the little container that was strapped tightly around his wrist, and then continued to watch the way he looped the set of silver cables through their destined ridges in the metal frame. They ran through the leather straps and the other loose ends were tickling his upper arm until Chanyeol connected them to the leather choker which had the same cables worked into it, lying cleanly braided and smooth against his skin. He obediently tilted up his head so Chanyeol could close it, tugging it just shy of being too tight.

"Alright?" he asked, voice husky as ever - it had to be the quiet aspect that was getting to Chen the way it did.

"Yeah," he whispered.

Chanyeol drew back a little, just enough to let him _breathe_ , and he looked concerned.

"Everything alright? You're awfully quiet again."

Chen nodded, and it came a little too late, and felt wrong.

"Yeah," he repeated, and the concern only deepened on the other's face.

"Jongdae-"

" _Don't call me that_."

It had slipped even when it really shouldn't have, but his stay in Sylvell was nearing its end and he just couldn't bear it any longer.

Of course Chanyeol would not only be confused, but also hurt.

"Sorry-"

"Can you-" Chen began, looking around the empty forge, seeing nothing but dust dancing in the sun rays, but dropping his voice to a whisper, anyway. "Just once, can you call me Chen?"

Chanyeol understood, even though he couldn't. He understood the essence of it, it was evident in the way his expression softened.

He place his hand over Chen's wrist, fingers thumbing beneath the leather straps, and proceeded to step between his legs.

His eyes trailed down, but quickly came to rest on Chen's again, his gaze almost uncomfortably intense.

"Would you get mad if I kissed you now... Chen?" he asked quietly, and Chen subtly wetted his own, notoriously dry lips.

"Not if you ask nicely," he rasped out, and Chanyeol's voice dropped even lower as he inched closer.

" _Please_."

There was no telling who closed the gap, and there was no telling how long they spent kissing, feeling each other up in the middle of Chanyeol's workplace. It was reckless, hot, and clearly driven by the bittersweet, unspoken fact that their time together would end soon, and yet it was utterly perfect. Chen couldn't recall the last time he'd felt so alive.  
  


* * *

  


"I thought about something. I'll volunteer for the triquetra."

Chen choked on his own spit.

"What?!" he snapped, lifting his head from Chanyeol's bare chest to sit up and shoot him an incredulous glare. Chanyeol only shot him a lazy pout and tucked the blanket a little higher, now that Chen wasn't keeping him warm anymore like he had done the past few days.

"I mean it-"

"No, you don't know what you're talking about," Chen cut him off, the fresh wave of panic sobering him up immediately. Of course Chanyeol interpreted it as him being nothing but a fling, and now he slowly sat up, too, looking uncomfortable.

"Right. It's not my place. Sorry for getting so enthusiastic about it," he trailed off, looking so obviously hurt that Chen wanted to scream.

"That's not it," he insisted, ruffling his own hair in frustration.

Should he trust him? No. He really, really shouldn't.

But maybe he'd been lonely for a little too long, and maybe Chanyeol's eyes were a bit too expressive and shiny for him to resist the other.

"You wouldn't be married to me. I'm not the prince," he admitted. Chanyeol looked taken aback.

Chen explained it to him, keeping it simple, hoping that Chanyeol wouldn't grow angry and throw him out before he could finish it.   
He didn't.

"So I'm not a prince," Chen ended a while later, quiet and insistent, "and in a few hours, I'll board an airship and go back to live in my brother's shadow. You'd be married to him, not me."

He watched the different emotions flicker over Chanyeol's face. From confusion to disbelief, until he looked strangely somber.

"I don't see your point," he said softly, and Chen gaped at him.

"Are you crazy or are you just really dumb?" he started, but Chanyeol was unfazed.

"When in doubt, always both," he shrugged, and before the other could start to ramble, he placed a hand over his, a gentle attempt at getting his attention.

"I'm one of the few eligible ones, anyway," he insisted calmly. "And as far as I can tell, your country could use a smith like me, if they're outsourcing already. It's not like people expect the bonded ones to actually fall in love, either, so who cares?"

Chen only lightly shook his head in disbelief.

"I mean, if this makes you uncomfortable, then I won't do it, of course," Chanyeol added, avoiding his gaze for the first time that evening. "I tend to be hasty and a little overbearing, I know. Just be honest with me-"

The rest got drowned out as Chen grabbed his face and kissed him, hard and passionate, until both of them ran out of breath.

"It's selfish," Chen whispered between kisses, fingers digging into the other's clammy skin.

"But I would really, really like that."

He felt Chanyeol chuckle beneath him, and then gasp when he settled in his lap, over the blanket.

"You're absolutely crazy."

He hated how weak his own voice sounded.

"And you make a mess out of me-"

Chanyeol shut him up by holding him close, his grip tight and tethering. Anchoring.

 

Chen still made him promise to re-think his decision when he left the next day. He wrote it on a piece of paper along with an address to write to, sneaking it into Chanyeol's hands without anyone noticing.

Throughout their countless letters, Chen kept assuring him that he had every right to change his mind. The letters all ended up in Chanyeol's fireplace eventually, erasing every trace of their hidden relationship just as promised, so he made sure to repeat it over and over again.

And Chanyeol never failed to assure him that he hadn't changed his mind and that he would volunteer. At some point, he started following it up with _I love you_.

Over and over and over again.

 

* * *

  


Chanyeol was sitting on the edge of his bed, looking at him like he was a complete stranger.

It was harsh, but Chen preferred it over the fake recognition. He preferred it over Chanyeol seeing his brother in him.

Even if it meant that everything they'd had was truly gone.

He felt sorry for Chanyeol though, and was ready to back off when the other spoke up first, hands clenched in his lap.

"Uhm. You said we wrote letters to each other," he began awkwardly. "Do you still have those?"

Of course. Of course Chanyeol would rightfully doubt him, and of course Chen still had every single letter.

"Sure," he said, reaching into a nook that was almost entirely hidden by the shadows, tugging out an intricate-looking box the size of a thick book. He handed it to Chanyeol and told him to take his time, allowing him to take the box with him as long as he kept it to himself.

Because Chen had pushed and pulled and dragged Chanyeol along a lot in the past. Now that they had been separated, he could do nothing but sit in the dark and be patient, hoping that Chanyeol would come to him again.


	33. Chapter 33 - [Copper]

_...that's it, I guess. I'm sorry I can't tell you where you got those animal figurines from. You made such a mystery of them. I just know that you started collecting them roughly a year before you left, a little after the Berien folks left. _

_ Did that stupid prince do anything to you? You seemed to be getting along well enough but if anything's the matter, let me know. I'll think of something. There has to be a solution. _

 

_ I'll come and visit you around the summer carnival. I hope you'll be fine until then... _

 

_ We're still best friends, so stop doubting us, idiot. _

 

_ Keep me up to date, _

_ Sehun _

 

_ P.S.: in the past two years, Vivi tripled his size. _

_ Just in case you needed a laugh. _

 

Chanyeol placed the thick bundle of papers and memorabilia that Sehun had sent him aside.

With a sigh, he flopped on his back, bouncing on the mattress as he began to skim some of the letters from the tin box again. Some were written neatly, others more carelessly, with grease staining the pages. All of them displayed his own, slightly messy handwriting. None of them had a name on top of them, but it was obvious that they were sent to the same person.

 

_ I know exactly how you feel! Yesterday, Sehun wanted to melt the leftovers, but I held on to them like a misguided magpie, already thinking of the kind of animals I could make of them. I'd love to teach you more about the mechanics and build them together with you - just wait a little longer. _

_ I miss you, too. _

 

It was his handwriting, there was no doubt about it. Chanyeol had written these letters. Knowing that it was true and that his mind simply came up blank made him feel painfully helpless.

The letters were sorted by date, and while reading them, he tried to guess what Chen had written prior to them. There seemed to be an ongoing theme, something other than small talk and words of affection.

 

_ Why do you keep saying that? Why would I not be safe over there? Is there something you're not telling me? I've made up my mind ages ago, you know I won't chicken out. _

_ The turtle turned out absolutely adorable by the way! I loved the different parts you chose for the shield- _

 

Chen had known something. For some reason, he had been convinced that Chanyeol shouldn't enter the bond. But why? Why wouldn't he be safe? Had he known that Chanyeol would be targeted?

 

_ Ah, you really want to keep me on my toes, don't you? Fine, I'll wait. But please stop worrying so much. We'll be fine, right? So stop worrying. _

_ I don't mind sealing my powers. Countless people live without them so why wouldn't I be able to do it? I can look after myself. It'll be just fine. _

 

_ I'm currently packing. Saying goodbye will be sad for sure, but I'm also excited. I can't wait to meet you. I'll just tell them that I'm tired from travelling - you better not stand me up though, or I'll go to sleep for real! _

_ I'll go back to packing now, since we'll have a small farewell party later. Can't be late to my own party! _

_ See you in three days. _

_ I love you. _

 

Chanyeol kept staring at the last letter. The paper was growing thin and soft at the edges, where it must have been unfolded many times.

There was something he was missing, and the solution was in there. He just had to think carefully.

It would be nice to have Minseok around to help him figure this out, but the other wasn’t home, so he had to think for himself first.

Chen had apparently promised to visit him upon his arrival. Whether or not Jongdae had been in on their relationship, Chanyeol didn't know. He suspected that he wasn't, but there was no telling, really. Either way, if Chanyeol was the one proposing to get rid of people like that, it meant that nothing had been arranged yet.

It bothered him because how would Chen have visited him in his room? How would he be able to enter the room? It seemed way too risky to do so without making proper arrangements, and yet Chen said it like it was nothing.

Suddenly, he remembered something.

Back when Chen had been exposed by Minseok, and they'd had a talk downstairs, Jongdae had joined them at some point. He'd entered through his own room. 

Now he could have stayed in his room the entire day, of course, but most of the time, he'd shared a bed with Minseok. Come to think of it, Chen hadn’t left the room through the front door, either. He’d returned to Jongdae’s room. It brought up a question.

When had the twins even swapped places, anyway?

Admittedly, Chanyeol hadn't been around Jongdae the whole time, but Minseok had. He should have noticed it. 

 

Unsurely, Chanyeol shifted his weight as he stared at Jongdae's closed door. This was a violation of privacy, but he had to know. He had to trace back and fill the gaps and hopefully get to the core of the issue, and this was currently the only loose end he could grasp.

Also, technically speaking, this was the master bedroom, and Chanyeol was part of this formal marriage. That's what he told himself when he entered carefully, looking around. The room was bigger than theirs, but the large bed and the piano crammed into a corner made it feel smaller. The lack of windows and copious amount of furniture, from wardrobes to bookshelves added to it, and Chanyeol briefly wondered whether Jongdae used to live alone in all four rooms. It would make more sense, because this was ridiculously modest.

Well, sharing his home like that was also modest beyond belief, for a prince.

Had Jongdae been a lonely person before they all moved in with him?

Chanyeol shook off his distracting musings and started to search the room.

Logically speaking, Jongdae should have taken the prettiest room with the biggest windows, and not this dark, cave-like one. But if his speculations were true, then a lack of windows was crucial...

He found it in a corner of the room, in the shadow of a wardrobe and behind a thick curtain obscuring a mirror. Left of the mirror, behind another layer of fabric, was a metal structure. It was painted dark, imitating wood, but there was no doubt about it.

Prying the door open was a bit tricky, but Chanyeol had a knack for things like this, and the mechanisms were in perfect shape, making strength unnecessary. Even the hinges were oiled perfectly, enabling a near soundless opening and closing of the door.

Chanyeol slipped through, entering a familiar kind of darkness. Closing the door would automatically tug the curtain back in front of it. The construction was so practical and yet cleverly made that Chanyeol could only see one person behind its concept.

There was nothing but darkness ahead, the air cool and slightly dusty. He'd seen quite a few tunnels so far though, and indeed found a little oil lamp on the ground, tucked into a nook next to the door.   
After fumbling with it for a bit, Chanyeol focused on bundling the heat.    
He’d recently started using his gift again, and while it was sluggish and close to useless, lighting candles was something he could pull off again. It would be kind of pathetic if any of his family members saw it, but Chanyeol figured that some practicality couldn’t hurt. He lifted the lamp to catch a glimpse at the walls and ground. So this was the tunnel they used to get Chen to the surface without being seen.    
  
Carefully, Chanyeol took the stairs with his head ducked and one hand softly gliding over the low ceiling to avoid hitting his head. He really couldn't afford to lose any more memories.

This tunnel should lead him to Chen's room, right? Or maybe to a spare room for Jongdae? Where did Jongdae go when Chen was posing as him?

The tunnel was long and winding, with multiple intersections, but Chanyeol was used to the life inside a mountain, and reading the air and properties of the tunnel came naturally to him. He chose the route that most obviously led down. Down, down, until the faint sound of machines grew louder.

At some point, he must have gone past the machinery, because the sounds faded out again. Had he ventured too deep into the mountain?

The air was a little warmer now, too, and a slight breeze lured Chanyeol to take a right turn and out of the tunnel. Absently, he extinguished his lamp, marvelling at the sheer size of the hall he was standing in. To his right and far above him, he saw the terrace, and instinctively pressed himself back into the shadows. He couldn't spot anyone on it, and judging by the silence, he hadn’t been spotted yet, either.

There were very faint echoes reverberating through the air, but they were far away.

He should probably turn around but he was so, so curious. This might be his only chance of sneaking in and finding out what was going on, finding an answer to the questions burning on his tongue.

_ What were you hiding from me, Chen? _

_ What's the castle hiding from us? _

_ What's down here? _

Those were the questions that kept him going, carefully creeping down into the maze of narrow stone corridors. There was absolutely no telling what this place was, but it didn't look like much of the shelter Chen had described it as. To him, it resembled a mine more than anything. The corridors were long and cleanly crafted, with colorful light bulbs occasionally decorating the walls and signalizing entrances to small rooms. They had to be color-coded, but there was no time to try and figure it out. Whatever it was that they were hiding, it should be more obvious than that. Something he wouldn't be able to miss.

As expected, the hall didn't end after the maze-like section, though it took another dive in depth. Chanyeol stood at the foot of a staircase, looking down into a dell of countless hallways leading into darkness. It looked bizarre, like humans had dug into every single direction, desperate to find... something.

There was a structure in the center of the dell, gently grabbing into the stone, carving a round room for itself. The air was saline and tangy, strangely moist, and the closer Chanyeol got, the colder he felt.

The closer he got, the less he understood what he was looking at.

He was still many steps away when he stopped, terrified by what he was seeing.

Whatever the humans living in this mountain had been digging for, they had dirtied more than their hands.

This place was cursed.

 


	34. Chapter 34 - [Silver]

"Are you alright, Chanyeol? You don't look so good."

Jongdae was right - Chanyeol looked frazzled and stressed out, and the sun had barely risen yet.

At the sound of his voice, the other looked up from his breakfast, but only for a split second.

"I'm fine," he said, a little too airy, a little too high for his usual timbre.

Minseok exchanged a look with Jongdae, but they could hardly force themselves on him.

"You look pretty pale though," Jongdae insisted carefully.

"I'm fine," Chanyeol repeated, a little more decisively, with no eye contact this time around.

Jongdae hummed.

"Alright then. Take it easy today?"

"I will."

While Jongdae continued to eat, Chanyeol glanced up to look right at Minseok. He looked nervous, and when Minseok shot him a questioning glance, he only subtly shook his head and glanced at Jongdae.

Oh. He wanted to talk alone.

Minseok lifted his fork and continued to eat, keeping his expression neutral.

He'd actually meant to join Jongdae, to try and further dissipate the remaining awkwardness between them. Chanyeol really did look disturbed, though, so Minseok excused himself, telling Jongdae something about sketches he wanted to finish. Luckily, Jongdae didn't seem offended at all, and wished him the best of luck, even asking if he could see them at some point.

With a last, worried wave towards Chanyeol, Jongdae finally allowed Junmyeon to drag him away to his office.

The door closed with a resounding click, and for a moment, it was silent. Chanyeol kept staring at the door as if he was listening to the fading steps, as if he was making sure the others would be gone.

When Minseok broke the silence, his voice came out smaller than intended.

"What's wrong?"

Even in extreme situations, Chanyeol had never looked this shaken.

"I need to show you something," he said lowly, sounding grave. And tired.

"Did you get any sleep at all last night?" Minseok tried, but Chanyeol only shook his head.

"I _need_ to show this to you. You have to see this. I wanted to talk to you about it last night, but you didn't sleep in your room-"

Minseok was dignified enough to ignore the way his cheeks darkened ever so slightly.

"Sorry about that. What is it? What happened?"

"I think I found the reason they're down there, Minseok," Chanyeol said lowly, urgently, and Minseok blinked.

"You did? What is it?"

"I don't know."

At the sight of Minseok's growing confusion, Chanyeol placed a hand on his upper arm.

"That's why I have to show you. Maybe you'll understand. I just. We gotta be careful not to be seen."

"Okay, okay. I'll come. But first, you take a deep breath," Minseok said sternly, leaving no room for argument. "You will have a hard time being stealthy if you can't even breathe properly."

Chanyeol exhaled.

"You're right. See, I'm glad I came to you. You're reasonable."

The compliment was nice, but Minseok couldn't bring himself to smile. This was worrying him.

Chanyeol didn't notice and brushed past him, towards Jongdae's room, muttering something to himself about staying calm.

Initially, the secret passage was shocking to Minseok, but it did made sense. The twin had been with him, after all, going as far as sharing a bed with him (a fact Minseok _still_ didn't like to think about because he was just a tad unforgiving), and somehow, the two had to have swapped places without being noticed.

Seeing these dark tunnels right beneath the rich, elegant curtains was surreal, at best. Minseok felt a little unsettled and wary, because this was obviously not something they were supposed to see.

He felt a familiar, painful prick and a light appeared. Chanyeol picked the lamp up after it had lit up, a fact that did not go unnoticed by Minseok.

"Did you just light it using your-?" he asked awkwardly, not knowing what to call their powers anymore.

"It's just a lamp," Chanyeol muttered. "Even I can still do that much."  
  
“Can you do it again?”   
  
“Huh? Is this really the time-” Chanyeol began, but Minseok cut him off.   
  
“Please. I want to check something.”   
With an impatient little groan, Chanyeol extinguished the light, only to turn it back on again. As predicted, Minseok felt another prick. He’d taken it as a sign that he lacked exercise, but apparently, the occasional, random pain had a different origin.   
  
“I felt that,” he hummed thoughtfully. Chanyeol shot him a confused look.   
  
“You’re feeling the temperatures around you?”   
  
“No, I feel some sort of pain whenever you use your ability,” Minseok calmly corrected, absently rubbing his chest, but the sting had gone as quick as it had flashed up.   
Chanyeol looked slightly horrified.   
  
“You do? Shit, I’m sorry, I had no idea,” Chanyeol half-murmured, half-whispered. Minseok waved him off.   
  
“It’s nothing. It’s not that bad. It probably works like this the other way around, too. That would make sense, at least.”   
  
“Really? I’ve never felt anything unusual,” Chanyeol trailed off, thinking about it after he said it.   
  
“It is called a _bond_ , after all, tying us together in a way. Guess Jongdae and I never tried to use it,” Minseok shrugged. Chanyeol muttered something about being more careful in the future, grabbed the lamp a little tighter and led the way into the darkness. It was true that Minseok had never even tried to reach out to the cold. He had simply accepted its absence. Sure, their powers were supposed to come back, albeit in a very weak form, but Minseok had never once doubted that he didn't need the cold for anything at all.   
  
Now, as he was slowly making his way through a dark tunnel, the faintest clacking and thrumming of machines reverberating through the walls, the prospect of being able to defend himself suddenly seemed desirable. There was no bodyguard looking after them now, no soldiers and no social etiquette - it was just them, in a dark tunnel, surrounded by rough stone walls. Sure, civilization was just a few meters of stone away, but it felt foreign and strange to Minseok nonetheless, who had never seen anything but the dirty and yet oddly clean-cut, razor-sharp society he had grown up in. He hadn't been a wild child playing in ruins or other rundown places, because that was dangerous. These tunnels felt... old and forgotten. And if something happened to them now, like a boulder crashing down,  it might take days until anyone would find them.

Chanyeol navigated with a certain ease that reminded Minseok of his upbringing. Sylvell was even more in tune with mountains and tunnels than Berien, so even if Minseok felt a little lost, he had Chanyeol to cling onto.

Chanyeol, who had been frazzled and nervous and scared of what he'd found.

After what seemed like forever, Minseok finally saw light in the distance, and Chanyeol extinguished the lamp - by hand, this time.

He stayed pressed to the wall, listening for any noises, and Minseok peeked past him, suddenly finding it hard to breathe. The tunnels ran deep, that much was obvious, but never in his wildest dreams would he have expected such a massive structure existing beneath their feet. Or behind them. The capital of Berien was pretty much hugging the mountain, crawling up like ivory, but this place was nestled in deep down, close to the mountain's core.

Minseok would have loved to study this place further, but something about it was creeping him out. It was too large and intricate to be so very quiet. Even the machinery thrumming beneath the castle had grown too distant to hear.

There was a hand on his arm and he flinched. Chanyeol put a finger to his mouth and then tugged him along. They crept along the wall of the giant hall and into what looked like a maze to him. Minseok tried to be quiet as he followed along, trying not to think too hard about the tons and tons of stone above them. Something was off about this place, about the forgotten structures, and it took Minseok a moment to realize what it was. It wasn't simply the absence of humans, but that of animals, as well. He didn't even spot more than two tiny insects. There were no cobwebs, no excrement from larger animals, and simply no signs of life. This place was way too clean.

The way ahead cleared into another hall, this one running even deeper, and in the midst of dozens of black holes was something golden.

Chanyeol tugged him along almost gently, as if he was scared Minseok would stumble or break the silence.   
He didn't.   
He obediently followed him down a steep flight of stairs, fingers clutching the metal rail. Light bulbs were placed along the walls and set into the ground, casting everything in a dull, yellowish glow. The fact that this place was so well-maintained and constantly lit could only mean that people came down here regularly. Very regularly. Or maybe they weren't as alone as they thought they were.

At the very least, this place was energy-consuming, Minseok thought absently.

His feet met the ground, and he followed Chanyeol towards what looked more and more like a golden cage. There was an odd scent lingering in the air, but Minseok couldn't place it.

The cage was round, with thick, golden bars roughly framing it, and an extensive net of golden wires weaving around them, creating the image of a luxurious, oversized wicker basket.

Something was off about the wires, though. They were glinting a little too much, as if the light in the room came from a fire instead of static light bulbs. It was subtle, but unsettling nonetheless, and the closer they inched, the slower they got.

"What is this?" Minseok whispered, and Chanyeol shook his head.

"I don't know," he murmured. "But there's something inside."

Alarmed, Minseok followed his gaze, not daring to get any closer than they already were. The gaps between the wires were generous enough for him to be able to see water reflections. A little lake? A faint dripping sound made him look up to see an unknown mineral nestled into the ceiling. There had to be something in there, probably in that lake... but what?

Cautiously, Minseok took another small step, until he was an arm's length from the cage. There was a faint crackling sound in the air, like dead leaves crinkling under pressure and being rustled by the wind, despite the air being almost completely stagnant.

There were patches of darkness in the water, strange, oily little puddles, and he was sure one of them had moved on its own. And now that he thought of it, maybe the shadows inside the cage looked a little too odd, and the rustling sound was no static running through the wires-

Minseok took a step back, staring at what he had assumed to be random shadows.

"There's... something in there," he whispered, absently squeezing Chanyeol’s hand when it found his.

"But what? You think it's dangerous?" he whispered, and Minseok fought the urge to back away further, hit by a sudden wave of disgust and fear.

"I don't know... hey, do you hear that?"

Chanyeol perked up and indeed, there was a rhythmic sound echoing through the halls. It was coming closer.

Alarmed, they looked around for a hiding place, scrambling to hide between the nearest rocks. Finding a good position to stay hidden and not potentially cause noises was hard, and the spike of adrenaline made it harder. Minseok didn't dare peek when the noise entered the hall. It sounded like the very distinct sound of skates, the new type of shoes with wheels beneath them. The sound was cut off abruptly, only to be followed by a few steps. And silence.

Chanyeol tugged at him. He shot him a warning look but upon his insistence, he leaned to the side to take a look, anyway.

There was someone standing by the cage, someone who looked like Luhan and who had placed a hand on the wires. A quiet vibration went through the wires, causing a low hum that steadily grew louder-

"And what do we have here?"

They whipped around to see Zitao standing there, clad in his usual, strange uniform, looking entirely unimpressed.

"What is it?" Luhan asked from behind them, and Minseok wanted the ground to swallow him up.

"More like _who_ is it," Zitao drawled out as he watched a sheepish Chanyeol get to his feet, and Minseok awkwardly following him. Luhan groaned.

"For real? When did you two get lost down here?"

"How did you not sense them?" Zitao countered, and Luhan huffed.

"Excuse me? How am I supposed to sense sealed ones? Not to mention that I was kinda busy-"

He cut himself off, realizing that this went nowhere.

"Whatever. You shouldn't be here. I'll bring you back, and you'll pretend you never-"

"You've got to be kidding!" Chanyeol threw in, surprisingly fierce and confident. "You can't expect us to forget about this!"

"Expecting, no, _demanding_ , yes," Zitao corrected him, and Chanyeol tensed up next to Minseok.

"What, you’re going to make me forget everything again?"

Minseok subtly held his hand again, and Luhan lifted his palms in defense.

"Hey, hey. Calm down. Both of you," he said, looking between Chanyeol and Zitao. "No one will be harmed here."

"What are these things?" Minseok asked before the two hotheads could actually start fighting. "Are you keeping them locked up because they're dangerous?"

Luhan grimaced, but Minseok wouldn't have it.

"We already found this place, and we know about Chen. You might as well tell us everything now," Minseok reasoned.

"He promised to tell me about this, anyway," Chanyeol burst out, sounding defensive still. "He promised he'd tell me _everything_."

This time, Luhan sighed.

"What's even taking him so long?" he asked, and Zitao shrugged.

"I'll get him. He should deal with this, anyway."

Zitao walked off, broke into a short jog, and then he was skating off, leaving MInseok confused.

"Kyungsoo made those shoes for you," Chanyeol said, and it sounded almost accusatory. Minseok whipped around to stare at Luhan's shoes, which looked perfectly ordinary. Then again, technically, the soles were thick enough to hide a mechanism in them.

"So what?" Luhan shrugged. "He made this entire thing. Well, at least he modified it to a point where it would be unrecognizable to the royals by now."

"They know about this place?" Chanyeol asked, and Minseok nudged him halfheartedly.

"Of course they do. They sent their own kid down to live here, after all."

"Right."

Luhan wiped his sweaty hair back and sighed.

"Hopeless. Come here, it's not dangerous."

Hesitantly, they followed Luhan, until they stood in front of the cage again. The wires were still humming faintly.

"The cage does not simply keep these from escaping, it forces them to disintegrate-"

"Now you're explaining it, after all?" Chanyeol asked suspiciously, and Luhan shot him a cool look.

"I sent Zitao away and I can do the same to you if you don't zip it now."

That did the trick, and Luhan took a deep breath.

"Look. Whenever someone uses their power, it creates... something. An anti-thesis. It's... hard to explain. We don't even know the process for sure, but Yixing and Kyungsoo said that our powers splice neutral matter, taking what we want from it, and the black spots are the remains."

Minseok let go of Chanyeol's hand in favour of huddling closer into his thin robe as he listened attentively, waiting for the messy explanation to make sense.

"These remains aren't like dead ash, though. They're incomplete and naturally seek that completion, that compensation, that balance."

"By consuming our powers?" Minseok guessed, but Luhan shook his head.

"That is too complex of a concept for them. They don't really have a conscience, even less so than animals. They come to existence, and they're pulled towards energy. They're weak though, so they don't even try to consume our powers and instead feed off something simpler."

Minseok didn't have to guess for that one.

"People."

"Yeah," Luhan agreed. "Something more powerful than a dead object, but not as powerful as the gifts we have. They would feed off animals, too, but even bugs don’t go near this place. If they touch a person’s skin, it rots away at an alarming speed. Most people didn't live to tell this particular tale, but the ones who did named it a pest."

"But," Minseok began, silently asking for permission which Luhan granted him with a nod. "Why does it only happen in this country? Are you saying that every country has a secret place like this?"

"Might be, but I doubt it," Luhan shrugged. "Because then Berien wouldn't be the only country advocating for people to use their given powers as little as possible. The origin of the spots is here. No matter who uses their power, no matter where they use it in the world... the results always show up here."

"You mean I created a few of those things in the past?" Chanyeol asked, sounding equal parts shocked and disgusted. Luhan only shrugged.

"Sure you did. All of us have fed them at one point or another. Ironically enough, we need our powers to fight them."

"That's what you and Zitao and Chen are doing down here?" Chanyeol asked, but before Luhan could reply, another familiar and very unimpressed voice was heard.

"You really can't sit still now, can you?"


	35. Chapter 35 - [Copper]

This time, Chanyeol didn't have to think long to know that it was Chen who was standing there, shooting them an unimpressed look. Minseok sighed in something akin to relief, but Chanyeol hardly shared the sentiment and shrank in on himself under the cool look.

"What are you two doing here?" Chen sighed in exasperation, and if Zitao would stop staring at them, smugly waiting for them to be scolded, that would help a lot.

"Well," Chanyeol began, shifting his weight from left to right, "I wanted to know. You promised you'd tell me, anyway-"

"And you couldn't be bothered to wait, huh?" Chen cut him off, and Chanyeol winced.

"You still have to explain the Oasis to them," Luhan threw in casually, in an obvious attempt to smoothe over the strained atmosphere. It worked for the most part because now Chen was glaring at him instead.

"You told them?"

Luhan only shrugged.

"It's what you would have done."

For a moment, Chen stared at him, obviously holding back on arguing any further. Then he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"What did he tell you?" he finally asked, sounding resigned and unhappy.

Chanyeol looked at Minseok, silently asking him to take over, which he did.

"That using our powers creates these malicious beings which feed off humans," he summed up, and Chen nodded, more to himself than anything.

"Okay. Listen up."

He gestured towards the golden cage.

"This is the Oasis. It's really just some rare kind of mineral which keeps slowly melting over time. Over the centuries, this small pond has formed. It slowly disintegrates the spots. You can fight them and rip them apart, but this is the only known method that makes them go for good."

Chanyeol nodded dutifully.

"This cage keeps them from escaping, since Luhan's magic is running through the wires, effectively keeping them inside," Chen continued. "So yes, this is what we do down here. Under no circumstances can you tell anyone about this, understood? Nobody, not even your friends and family-"

"But why?" Minseok piped up, sounding every bit as confused as Chanyeol felt. "Why would you keep something like this a secret? Why do you not make it public and evacuate the castle or-"

"Because this started to happen in the middle of a war," Chen stated firmly. "Berien was desperately trying to defend its borders when they realized that the biggest danger was lurking in their very own basement, which people used as a shelter. With most gifted people fighting at the front lines, there was hardly anyone left to fend off the monsters. It was a cruel, bloody mess that demanded a good chunk of the population as a tribute."

"And if you had made it public back then, they would have used the knowledge against you," Minseok speculated, and Chen nodded.

"Exactly. Even now, the peace between the countries is still fragile, though they're working towards making it public up there."

"This is why Berien keeps recruiting people with gifts while at the same time encouraging them not to use them," Minseok murmured, and Chanyeol could only listen like an idiot as everything softly clicked into place.

"Yeah. It may sound hypocritical, but we need the best team we can get, in case shit goes down," Chen admitted. "It's mainly the three of us who take care of it at the moment, but Kyungsoo is our technician while Yixing can read the state of the Oasis, in a way."

Minseok didn't seem to hear him.

"This is why our bond exists in the first place," he breathed out, looking at Chanyeol and then Chen for confirmation. "Because it takes three of the most powerful abilities off the table and normalizes a life without them."

Luhan chuckled.

"You're quite the politician, aren't you?"

"He hangs out with Jongdae too much," Chen commented, but it sounded relaxed. "But yes, that's essentially it. It was this country's people who came up with the concept."

Minseok nodded, and while his expression remained almost stoic, Chanyeol could tell that he was overwhelmed. Maybe Luhan could tell it, too, for he clapped his hands and broke the tension.

"As much as I value our little chat, we're done here, right? I still have a few routes to patrol on, and I think these two could use a break to digest all of this."

Chen hummed in agreement and turned towards Zitao.

"Take him back up, please."

"Since when did I become your secretary," Zitao whined with an eye roll, but an insistent "please" was enough to make him cave, almost aggressively telling Minseok to follow him.

This was the part where Chanyeol gulped in fear of what was to come.

Contrite and guilty, he peeked at Chen, whose shoulders were sagging as he exhaled in what was probably disappointment.

"Let's go to my room, shall we?" he asked quietly, ignoring a low whistle from Luhan.

Chanyeol followed him in silence. Disappointing Chen felt unreasonably awful, and he wanted to take it all back. It was ridiculous how much he was focusing on this, considering that he had just found out about Berien fighting monsters beneath their feet.

As soon as Chen closed the door behind them, Chanyeol broke down.

"I'm sorry!" he burst out, eyes wandering from Chen to the ground and back. "I'm sorry, I was curious and an idiot," he professed. "I should have trusted you."

"Based on what?" Chen only asked quietly, and a tentative palm on his upper arm had Chanyeol focus on him.

"Chanyeol, I'm not... mad at you."

This threw him off entirely.

"You're not?"

"No," Chen reassured him, and threw his head back with a groan, "I was just- worried. I was worried about you. Don't sneak around this place on your own, your powers are way too weak to fight anything off."

"I'm sorry," Chanyeol whispered, and he meant it. Without a warning, he was pulled into a surprisingly firm hug, and the scent of the cave, salt, and Chen was everywhere.

"I hope this is okay," he murmured into the crook of his neck. It tingled.

In response, Chanyeol hesitantly returned the hug. They fit together well, he thought absently.

"I know this is weird for you, and I'm not demanding for you to feel anything for me," Chen began quietly, pressing himself even closer as if he feared Chanyeol would try to get away, "but please at least trust me in that regard. I'll keep you safe no matter what our relationship is. Okay?"

"Okay," Chanyeol whispered, daring to lean on the other. They stood like that for a moment until Chen suddenly chuckled, tickling Chanyeol's sensitive skin.

"You thought I was mad at you," he murmured, sounding equal parts amused and overwhelmed. "Honestly, I would have been disappointed if you just took my word for everything. I didn't fall in love with an  idiot."

They both tensed up at his words - clearly, Chen hadn't meant to word it that way.

"How is this supposed to make things easier for me?" Chanyeol breathed out, barely above a whisper in the most fragile kind of amusement.

"Sorry," Chen muttered, burying his face in his chest in humiliation. "I'm not good with... words. Just. Sorry."

"Good enough for past me, apparently, so whatever," Chanyeol hummed, and the other finally drew away to let him breathe.

"So you do believe me?" he asked in utter disbelief. Chanyeol shrugged.

"Sure. I doubt you faked all those letters, and don't even get me started on these things you're fighting against. It all seems to make sense like this."

Chen nodded.

"Yeah," he muttered restlessly. "Yeah, right."

Chanyeol shot him a dubious glance.

"Is there  _ anything  _ else you're not telling me? Because I'm really not sure my brain could process any more secrets-"

"No!" Chen cut him off a little too loudly, hands raised in defense. "No, I was just happy! I didn't think you'd ever believe me, no matter the evidence, because it  _ is _ kinda crazy."

He looked nothing but earnest, and something about him was just inherently clumsy where Jongdae was smooth. He was also forward where Jongdae seemed shy, affectionate where Jongdae was distant and he should really stop comparing them.

With a pathetic noise, Chen sat down on one of the stairs leading to an upper layer of his room.

"You make me look stupid," he groaned, covering his face. With a small smile, Chanyeol sat down as well, two stairs above him to have more room for his longer legs.

"Stop being so cute," he quipped, and yelped when Chen smacked his leg.

"Shut up!"

"And you're sure I liked you?" Chanyeol whined, and Chen replied with a flustered grimace.

"I'm not usually like this, I swear."

Chanyeol hummed, but didn't challenge him on that. After all, the ones who remembered had a harder time than those who didn't. And if Chen's retellings were true, their feelings had run deep.

Honestly, the mere idea that someone as attractive and mesmerizing as Chen had fallen in love with Chanyeol, of all people, was the most absurd aspect of the entire story - including the monsters in the mountain tunnels.

"So that's the reason why you and Jongdae live like this?" he asked, to change the topic to something less tortuous for Chen. "Because of the monsters?"

"Yeah," the other agreed readily. "I need to take care of the spots. But the country is obligated to give up on the most powerful person they have. They couldn't afford to lose my abilities, so they came up with this scheme."

"What are your powers, by the way? Are you immune to these things?" Chanyeol asked, cheek mashed against his knee.

"I can show you one day. And they could harm me, but it's highly unlikely. Have some faith in my skills," Chen joked. He didn't seem to mind his curiosity. Maybe talking about this after keeping it a secret for such a long time was freeing, after all. Or maybe-

"Hey, did you already tell me about all this?"

Chen blinked, hesitated for a split second, and Chanyeol added, "When I arrived here, I mean. Did you let me in on all this?"

"I did, actually. On your second day. Didn't wanna ruin everything on the first night, but I wanted to give you a last chance to back out."

Chanyeol hummed knowingly, and slid down a few stairs, until he could comfortably lean his head against Chen's upper arm.

"Can you tell me about that, too? And is this okay?"

"Why do you even ask?" Chen sighed, immediately leaning into the touch.

"Because it's the right thing to do," Chanyeol replied stubbornly.

Their situation was bizarre all around, and being honest with each other was their best bet to make any of this work, in his opinion.

"Don't skip anything, okay? I want to know exactly what I forgot about," Chanyeol added, and felt a flick to his head.

"You really do like to see me squirm, don't you?" Chen asked jokingly, and Chanyeol turned his head just enough to glance up at him.

"And what if I do?" he asked, a small smile ghosting over his lips.

Chen's eyes got a little cloudy, but the intensity was gone as far as it had come, and he ran his fingers through Chanyeol's hair, pressing him back into his side again.

"You better not interrupt me," he announced, and Chanyeol smiled, despite feeling fuzzy, fluttery, and like his throat was clogged up. Or maybe he smiled because of that.


	36. Chapter 36 - [Gold]

Wu Yifan's makeshift office  looked surprisingly lived in already. To Jongdae, who wasn't exactly a neat freak, that only added to his impression of the Selven doctor. He gestured for Junmyeon to wait outside because anything medical was a sensitive matter, and there was probably a reason doctor Wu wanted to speak with him alone.

"Have you been having a good stay so far?" Jongdae asked, and received a curt nod in return.

"Yes. Everyone has been hospitable and welcoming."

Now, Wu Yifan was a tall man, easily over a head taller than Jongdae himself, and his voice was even deeper than Chanyeol's. He should be an intimidating man, but Jongdae felt comfortable around him. He had an inborn talent, too, albeit unrelated to his job, and would make a good addition to the castle, Jongdae mused.

"Feel free to stay as long as you wish," he offered gently, and while the other was obviously suspicious about the easy offer, he shrugged it off for the time being.

"Thank you. And thank you for your time," he added, turning the conversation towards the topic at hand almost immediately. Well, more bonus points in Jongdae's book.

"I finally have the results of your husband's blood test. It was hard to figure anything out after such a long time has passed, but we did get some results."

Jongdae blinked. It was rare to hear anyone refer to Chanyeol as his husband nowadays, but technically, they were right, of course.

A sudden prick made him flinch.  
  
“Everything alright?” Wu asked immediately, and Jongdae nodded, absently massaging his chest. He had a vague idea what this sensation was about - Yixing had him warned him that something like this would happen if any of them fought the seal on their skin, and this was not the first time he’d felt it.   
  
“Yes. Sorry, it’s nothing,” Jongdae dismissed him, making a mental note to confirm things with Minseok and Chanyeol.

Doctor Wu shot him a dubious glance, but ultimately shrugged it off, turning a few papers around for him to see, tapping on the bottom numbers in the chart he had written down. Jongdae felt another prick, but this time he was less surprised and thus managed to keep a straight face.

"So, your husband’s blood results,” the doctor began anew. “There was most definitely a strongly concentrated mixture in his blood, and the components are... familiar," he said vaguely, his voice dropping even lower as he sought Jongdae's gaze.

"Which is why I wanted to talk to you alone about this."

Maybe Jongdae already knew what was to come, but his mind refused to accept this information.

"What do you mean by familiar?"

"Honestly, I would be a little more doubtful if it wasn't for the fact that I'm Selven myself," Wu said almost apologetically, "but this is very clearly a product of alchemy, and a Selven one at that. How many people in this castle would be able to create a potion like that?"

Jongdae didn't look him in the eye as he replied.

"One."

His voice sounded numb to his own ears.

They only had one alchemist in the castle, and only a single one of Selven descent in the entire capital, at least as far as Jongdae was informed.

"I'm just telling you what I found," Wu said, leaning back with a frown. "I realize that the results look... bad. I'm trusting you not to take it as an attack on my end."

"Of course not," Jongdae hurried to wave him off, even though the statement had planted doubt in him. Did Wu have ulterior motives? But framing one of his own would simply make no sense - Selven people were known for their loyalty towards each other, so it wouldn't have been surprising if Wu faked the results in _favor_ of Yixing.

But... Yixing wouldn't have used alchemy against Chanyeol... right?

He had no reason to, right?

After all, he was his closest friend.

...right?

 

"I'll... think about our next steps," Jongdae murmured, and Wu nodded.

"Of course. I will have my results triple-checked. Away from your alchemist, if you permit it."

It hurt, but Jongdae nodded, anyway, as he got to his feet.

"I'll have a permit written for you. Thank you for the hard work and honesty."

Wu got to his feet, as well, alluding to a subtle bow.

"It's a given, but thank you."

With a strained smile, Jongdae left the office, coming face to face with a worried-looking Junmyeon.

"Dae? You look pale."

"It's nothing. What's next on our schedule?"

"A meeting regarding the restoration of the square - you really don't look good. What did he say?" Junmyeon prodded, but Jongdae only shook his head. He wanted to be alone with his thoughts for the time being. He went from one meeting to another, dragging himself through debates with a stiff smile and deflecting Junmyeon’s constant questions. No matter how hard he tried to focus, though, his mind kept wandering back to Yixing. He was always the first person Jongdae would confide in, and without him, Jongdae felt utterly alone. That was, until he remembered Minseok.

It seemed a little overbearing to pour out his heart to the other, especially considering that they had only made up a few days ago. But simply enjoying the other's company would be nice. If that was alright with Minseok.   
Yes, Jongdae decided as he was opening the door to their rooms hours later. Simply not being alone would be nice.

To his surprise, Minseok wasn't only present, but he was sitting on a cushion by the window, instead of his usual spot at the desk.

He blinked up at Jongdae when he entered, shooting him a curt greeting, and he could immediately tell that something was off.

"You're drinking?"

Minseok looked at the bottle on the table before him, and then back at him.

"Why not?" he shrugged, leaning back into the cushions. "I felt like it tonight. You should have one, too."

"I don't really drink alcohol," Jongdae trailed off, hanging up his coat and slipping out of his shoes.

"Huh. Because you don't want to or because you shouldn't?"

Jongdae couldn't stand being around wasted people, but Minseok was definitely a stoic drunk - if he was even drunk at all. While he sank into the cushions across him, Jongdae couldn't spot anything but very slightly glassy eyes and the faintest hue of red dusting his cheeks. He had probably not had much.

"It doesn't really suit a princely image," Jongdae replied with a smile, but Minseok wouldn't have it.

"Would make you the first non-drunkard royal I ever heard of," he commented, and yes, he was definitely more talkative and sassy than usual. "You sure you didn't stay away because of your abilities?"

Oh. Right.

"That, too," Jongdae hummed. People with inborn gifts were usually advised to stay away from alcohol, in order to not create unnecessary risks. Most of them weren't keen on drinking, anyway - Jongdae had had his first sip of alcohol alongside Chen, who was vivid in his descriptions of how awful alcohol felt in his system.

Right now though, his powers were gone, or at the very least unable to get out of control.

Minseok placed a glass before him, and poured the red liquid with deceptive care.

"It's your privilege now, so why not give it a shot?"

Jongdae shrugged internally. Why not indeed.

"Is this wine?" he asked, curiously swirling the liquid around the glass.

"Something like that," Minseok replied, already lifting his own glass to his lips. "The kitchen staff gave it to me."

It tasted sweet, like a cocktail of fruits with a slightly sour note rather than the bitter liquid he remembered alcohol to be.

"They probably gave you the best they had to offer," Jongdae chuckled, and when Minseok looked confused, he added, "They're all so enamored with you."

"Me?"

Jongdae took another sip.

"Sure. Chanyeol, too, but I think they like you in particular. Speaking of which, where is Chanyeol?"

Minseok thought about it for a moment.

"Is there a codeword for _potentially doing it with your brother right now_?" he then asked, and Jongdae choked on his drink.

"What?" he croaked, rubbing his throat to somehow soothe the burn. "You sure? Oh god, I knew he was after Chanyeol. I should have paid more attention."

Minseok tilted his head, looking borderline amused by his reaction.

"I'm pretty sure the feeling is mutual. I thought you knew about them?"

"No?" Jongdae asked helplessly, and Minseok actually snorted.

"How did you not know about them? Chanyeol mentioned that they've been in a relationship for over a year."

Jongdae felt like the biggest idiot on earth. He had genuinely assumed that Chen had developed a mere interest in his husband upon his arrival.

"He even left that note on the mirror," Minseok added, still amused. "You know, the one daring you not to fall for him? How come even I remember that when you don't?"

"The note. _Right_ ," Jongdae breathed out, his drink entirely forgotten as more and more realizations hit him. "I thought he met him for the first time back then, and I- oh god, I even flirted with Chanyeol simply to show him up."

He buried his face in his hands, dearly wishing to turn back time to avoid the embarrassment he was feeling now.

What an idiot he was.

"So you _were_ flirting, after all. I see," Minseok quipped, and Jongdae's head whipped up immediately.

"It was harmless! I didn't mean it like that, I just- I'm sorry."

Now Minseok was shooting him a funny look, a mild, unreadable expression.

"Why are you apologizing to me?"

Startled, Jongdae didn't have any answer other than a shrug. Right. Why?

It wasn't like he owed Minseok anything. So why was the idea of showing interest in anyone but him making him feel so... worried?

He took a big gulp from his glass, hoping that the alcohol would kick in soon and potentially make everything better.

"I just feel like an idiot now," he sighed in a weak attempt at distracting from a question he had no answer to. "Chen was _pissed_ when Chanyeol lost his memory. He was seething. He actually punched me after that masked ball. He's never done that before."

"Violence is a weak reaction," Minseok countered, looking unhappy, but Jongdae wasn't all that mad at his brother anymore.

"I was asking for it, really. We were on bad terms already, and then he suddenly snapped when Chanyeol got hurt, and I was just really confused. I even saw them together and didn't connect the dots - how could I be so dumb?"

"He'll probably forgive you," Minseok said dismissively, fingers absently playing with the rim of his glass. "As long as you're truly not interested in Chanyeol."

"I'm not," Jongdae replied immediately. "Not like that."

"See? You'll be fine. After all, he grew up witnessing your idiocy first hand. It shouldn't be new to him," Minseok shrugged.

"You have quite the sharp tongue on you when you're drunk," Jongdae complained, and Minseok huffed.

"Can't take it?" he asked, and if he didn't know any better, he'd say that Minseok sounded suggestive.

"Sure I can," he replied lamely, and maybe he was getting tipsy, too.

"Good," Minseok hummed into his glass, taking another sip.

Jongdae put his down, and Minseok refilled it without a word.

"I can't believe I'm sitting around drinking alcohol right now," he sighed.

"Why?"

He'd been determined not to mention it, but talking to Minseok was so easy right now. He was smart and thoughtful, and... on eye-level.

"I was told that one of the people I trust the most might be guilty of committing a crime," he explained vaguely, and the feeling of helplessness returned in a flash. "And I don't know what to do or believe anymore."

Minseok furrowed his brows.

"You should have told me that when I was more sober. So someone is being accused but you want to believe in them?"

"Yeah."

"It's not Yixing, is it?"

If even a tipsy Minseok could figure him out that easily, it was surely for the best that Jongdae called it a day already.

"How did you know?"

Minseok actually chuckled.

"He's the only one who's close to you."

"Are you saying I have no friends?" Jongdae half-joked, if only to mask the sting he had felt at his words. Minseok didn't even flinch.

"I'm saying you choose not to have friends. Besides, who would I be to judge you?" he asked equanimously. "So Yixing is being accused of something? And you think it’s a lie?"

"I don't think they're lying," Jongdae corrected him, "but I don't think Yixing did anything, either. He wouldn't. He wouldn't betray me."

"And you're sure of that?" Minseok asked, looking somber.

"Yes."

"Then what's the problem?"

He sounded completely blasé about it, and when Jongdae looked up, he felt slightly dizzy.

"Just get to the root of this and prove his innocence. Tell him that someone might be framing him, and ask him for cooperation."

"But..." Jongdae trailed off, helplessly watching his flimsy thoughts evaporate.

Minseok slid to the ground so he could sit right next to Jongdae and shoot him an earnest look.

"Yixing is the most rational person I have met in this entire country,"  he began, and Jongdae was torn between agreeing and feeling strange, hearing that out of Minseok's mouth.

"He's reliable, mature, and understanding. He also seems to have a really strong work ethic when it comes to alchemy, too, so personally, I don't think he'd intentionally hurt anyone. Seems to go against his morals. If you approach him openly, he'll understand."

"You're pretty enthusiastic about him," Jongdae provided, another weak attempt at a joke. Up close, Minseok looked even more stunning than usual.

"He was nice to me," Minseok shrugged.

"Are you into him?"

The question had slipped out before Jongdae knew it, his tongue loose from the alcohol prickling through his system.

Minseok blinked in surprise, and then dropped his head with a chuckle.

"Can you not laugh at me, please?" Jongdae demanded weakly. "I don't see what's funny about this-"

When Minseok looked up, he was still biting back a grin, still repressing a chuckle.

"You're so, so _dumb_ ," he exclaimed in utter astonishment, and Jongdae was confused and slightly offended. "You're not even doing it on purpose - you are just _that_ oblivious."

"If you're about to tell me you've been dating Yixing for three years," Jongdae began, feeling woozy and panicked, but the rest of the empty threat got stuck in his throat when Minseok grabbed his face and kissed him, quickly pressing their lips together.

"God, shut up, I'll die laughing," he said, and it came out breathier than probably intended. It was nothing compared to the absolutely shell-shocked state Jongdae was in, despite the kiss being hardly more than a smooch.

He just. Just like that, he had-

"Do you always do that when you get drunk?" he asked, voice cracking. Self-consciously, he cleared his throat while Minseok slid even closer, placing a hand on Jongdae's neck.

"No, Jongdae," he stated, suddenly serious and as if Jongdae was testing his patience. "I don't. Do I really have to spell this out for you?"

_Oh._

He didn't get further than that because Minseok was already brushing their lips together, much gentler this time, and Jongdae stopped thinking for just a second.

He had kissed before, had engaged in fleeting flings before becoming a prince became his only priority, but it had been a long time. And no one had ever kissed him like Minseok - careful, warm, an intoxicating mix of bold and shy, slow, innocent brushes of lips, and Jongdae was so, so gone for him.

He returned the kiss like he was treasuring it, following along with the pace Minseok was setting, which was intimate to the point of being dizzying. This was new, and at the same time something he hadn’t realized he'd been wishing for, hoping for.   
  
He really was dumb, Jongdae absently thought as he was carefully pressed into the cushions and got carried away, kissing Minseok like they had all the time in the world.


	37. Chapter 37 - [Rose Gold]

Chanyeol actually squealed when Chen slammed the back of his hand against the shadowy mass, the pointy tip of his crystal container effectively pinning it against the stone wall.

"Relax!" he laughed, watching the way the container darkened as it sucked up the dot. "Have some faith in your own creation!"

"How do you do that? I didn't build it for this; I'm pretty sure I didn't," Chanyeol rambled, and Chen added pressure, speeding up the process simply to show off a little. It's been awhile since using his powers was so much fun.

"It's my energy," he explained, ripping his hand away when every trace of the dot was gone, and the container looked cloudy. "I can't really move these things, but I can move my own energy, and the dots kinda latch on to it."

"But don't they feed off your energy?" Chanyeol asked, clearly worried. Chen found it adorable.

"They do! I purposefully use an amount weak enough that they'll stick, so to say, and then move them. I could use more, to deflect them, and I could even rip them to shreds, but that wouldn't be of much use."

Chanyeol shuffled his feet, not looking  so convinced.

"It still sounds dangerous..."

Chen slapped his back, which caused Chanyeol, who was wearing roller skates, to almost tumble over.

"It's fine," he dragged out, "I know what I'm doing. It's not any more dangerous than your job at the forge."

He stretched his limbs and exhaled in a happy, refreshed sigh.

"Alright, three more tunnels and we're done for today. I hope you've been practising, cause the race is still on!" he announced, switching to his skates with a small leap, to roll down the tunnel, looking back to see if Chanyeol was following.

"I won't be able to race you," Chanyeol whined, movements still clumsy. "My feet already hurt - unlike you, I can't just put away the wheels-"

"Excuses, nothing but excuses," Chen sing-songed, but took Chanyeol's hand, anyway, gently stabilizing him. It was true that Chanyeol was wearing a pair of ordinary roller skates, unlike the mechanical shoes specifically designed for Chen and his friends.

"Even my brother can keep up with me, and he's one lame turtle," Chen teased, but he slowed down, anyway, cutting him some slack for the time being.

They made their way back to the cage, where Chen pressed the container in between the wires, the collected dots escaping through the tip, naturally shying away from the loaded wires.

Chanyeol muttered something about how the entire construction was genius.

"Kyungsoo _is_ a genius, even though he's a bit of a cranky weirdo. I'm sure he'll like you though," Chen commented as they slowly rolled towards the next tunnel, with his container being empty again.

"Maybe I can help him with maintaining this one day," Chanyeol mused, movements calming down to accommodate to Chen's routined, smooth strides. "Then I wouldn't be entirely useless, after all."

Chen stopped so abruptly that Chanyeol stumbled, so he held him by his upper arms to shoot him a disbelieving look.

"And how exactly is sacrificing your ability and entire former life for the sake of peace 'being useless'?"

Chanyeol shrugged aimlessly, and with an eye roll, Chen tugged him down by his shirt until he was at a comfortable enough height to kiss the doubt off his face. He was fully committed to taking it further, but seeing how squirmish Chanyeol got because "This is dangerous, what if one of the shadow things show up?!", Chen let him off the hook once more, righting his clothing and pulling him along. He simply couldn't decide whether he wanted to talk to Chanyeol, play with him, or rip his clothes off. After one year of nothing but writing each other letters, Chen just felt _energetic_ , wanting everything at once.   
  
When he heard that Jongdae had cooped himself up in his room to work, he put on a cloak and tugged Chanyeol around the castle, showing him around. He showed him all the hidden spots one could reach through the tunnels, skidding down mostly abandoned hallways, their laughter echoing through the corridors. Whenever people acknowledged him, they'd mostly smile or shake their head in fondness because they loved Jongdae, and the stuck up guy had probably not laughed like this in forever. Chen didn't think of his brother though, not during that time. He simply enjoyed the freedom and Chanyeol’s company.

They met Yixing in one of the palace gardens, who subtly conveyed his judgement over him being so reckless, but Chen laughed it off. Just when he was on his way to the forge to introduce him to Kyungsoo, they took a corner and violently bumped into Junmyeon, who shot Chen an unhappy glance that became outright scathing when he realized that he wasn't looking at Jongdae.

"What do you think you're doing?" he whispered angrily, and with an expression of mock-fear, Chen tugged Chanyeol along, opening the next best door and slamming it closed behind them.

There was a gasp, and when he turned around, his heart skipped a beat.

There, at the desk, right next to Kyungsoo... stood Jongdae.

"Oh shit-" Chen whispered eloquently. Jongdae looked completely shell-shocked. Chen knew him though, knew what would come before Jongdae did, and lifted his hands.

"Calm down, Dae-"

" **Out**."

"He knows, I told him-"

"Get lost - you have no fucking business even being here!" Jongdae hissed, almost loud enough to be heard in adjacent rooms, and before Chen could refuse, Junmyeon was right behind him, tugging him out of the room. Causing a scene was off limits - just because he couldn't see anyone didn't mean that no one was in hearing range. Chen bit his lip hard enough to bleed and had no choice but to silently let himself be led away by Junmyeon, head lowered and heart racing.

It would be fine. Chanyeol would explain it to them. Kyungsoo wouldn't be too shocked by the news, either. Sure, he'd never hear the end of this and this was probably his last trip to the surface for awhile, but it would be fine.

Definitely.

 

* * *

 

 

"And only a few hours after that, I heard the news," Chen admitted. Somewhere along the line, they had moved to sit on his bed instead, backs against the wall. "That you hit your head. That you fell into a coma for hours and that you forgot everything."

With a deep sigh, Chen leaned back to stare at the ceiling, head knocking against the wall with a dull thud.

"So in the end, it's my fault. As per usual. I was reckless and dumb, put you in danger, and I didn't even need shadow monsters or assassins for that."

Chanyeol didn't immediately deny that, which was an answer in itself. He was still pressed against his side though, and Chen was too weak to break the touch first.

It might be his last one, after all.

"That was really stupid of you," Chanyeol admitted, and Chen braced himself for the worst, closing his eyes.

"But... it's okay."

"Huh?"

He turned to look at Chanyeol, who refused to look him in the eye.

"I get why you did it. It was a spur of the moment thing, and... you've been cooped up down here, so- yeah. It's kinda flattering that you broke all the rules for me," he said slowly, as if he was assessing the thought while saying it.

"Are you dumb?" Chen blurted out, and now Chanyeol was looking at him.

"You just said you're dumb, so why wouldn't I be? You picked me, after all."

"You say it like I forced you," Chen complained, finally sliding away just enough to properly glare at him. "Who said that you weren't the one seducing me?"

"You did," Chanyeol quipped back, failing to suppress his smile any longer. "Your retelling was pretty clear with you making all the advances and being a complete alpha male-"

"Liar," Chen gasped, and started tickling him right where he knew the other was sensitive, resorting to a play fight he was destined to win.

It wasn't like wrestling with him for the first time all over again, because Chen remembered. He remembered what Chanyeol didn't, and yet Chanyeol wasn't discouraged in the least, trying his best to surprise him, not holding back or shying away.

_How did I ever deserve to meet you?_

Chen kept asking himself that while they lay on the bed, both panting in exhaustion.

He was too much of a chicken to say it out loud. Maybe another time.

And there _would_ be another time, if Chanyeol allowed it. Because he wouldn't ever endanger Chanyeol again.


	38. Chapter 38 - [Brass]

Jongin hummed to himself as he used paper to soak up the spilled liquid around the fine glass shards. It was of an almost toxic yellow, and he didn't know what it was, but if it was dangerous to the touch, Yixing would have warned him.

Life was surprisingly good to him right now. He would have expected to suffer as a prisoner of the country that wanted him dead, but his identity hadn't been made public, and people simply accepted him as Yixing's new scholar. To someone like him, who grew up in the dirt, with people ready to put their foot on his head when he was already down... this was surprisingly nice. Yixing thought of himself as a strict teacher, but it was nothing to Jongin, who, again, was used to very different teaching methods. He hadn't become a mercenary entirely on his own, after all.

Surely, he would feel the weight of being bound to the castle and made a pet sooner or later, but for the time being, he felt safe. He'd never felt this safe without his powers.

 

Behind the counter and by the door, Junmyeon and Yixing were chatting still, and Jongin carefully collected the bigger shards so they could be melted again. Glass was precious, after all.

 

Learning alchemy proved itself to be not so bad either. Initially, Jongin had accepted the offer for selfish reasons, so he could implement it into future jobs and maybe protect himself or even use it against his victims, but it was hard to keep that in mind when he had to start with the basics. It was hard to think of alchemy as a weapon when Yixing was teaching it.

There were no real lessons with Yixing - everything could become a lesson, and he wove explanations into their shared, daily life, whenever the opportunity presented itself. He took Jongin along when he gathered herbs and flowers, encouraged him to take notes of what he felt was hard to remember, but also offered him free access to his books.

On one of his first days, he’d asked Jongin to sketch a certain plant. Being a less than mediocre artist, the results were questionable, so Jongin tried it again and again, too stubborn to show such a bad drawing to his teacher. At some point, Yixing told him to put it down and join him again, to try again another time.

Yixing always seemed to have an eye on him, even when he seemed absent or aloof, and at first,  Jongin was certain that the other just didn’t trust him. As the days passed by, however, he began to accept the attention, to look forward to it, to _work_ for it. To get something right and prove himself was always satisfying, but now he had someone praise him for it.

Just thinking about it made Jongin feel like an idiot, and he let one of the shards fall into the container from an unnecessary height, the clinking sound oddly satisfying.

He had such a simple mind, it was almost sad. Starved for attention to the point of being cheap and easy. Though to be fair, while kind and friendly, Yixing didn't _make_ him feel cheap and easy. It was something about him, something that remained distant and unattainable and for some weird reason, that made it easier for Jongin.

It also made him more curious, but that was another story altogether.

The door closed just as Jongin collected the last, thick shard, and Yixing was by his side in no time.

"I'm sorry for making you clean this up all on your own."

Jongin refused to hand over the dustpan.

"It's okay."

Yixing sighed, and took the container with the soaked up paper to throw in the bin.

"I didn't want to throw Junmyeon out like that. He seemed more stressed than usual."

"Maybe he just wants to spend time with you," Jongin muttered, immediately regretting it. What a way to make himself look like a jealous child.

"I think he just wants someone to talk to," Yixing replied lightly, kneeling down next to him again. "We don't see each other that way."

The mature answer only made Jongin feel more stupid, and when Yixing reached out, he lightly pushed his hand away with the back of the dustpan.

"I got this. The shards are too small to collect with bare hands, like you always say," Jongin said, eyes trained on the ground. "Besides, that's what an apprentice does, right?"

"You're very stubborn," Yixing sighed, but stopped interfering, nonetheless. "I wonder if there's enough room in this lab for both our stubbornness."

"Sorry."

"Don't be. Stubbornness is related to resilience, in my opinion," Yixing smiled, holding out the container for Jongin to fill in the last shards. "And resilience is needed to reach your goals."

Jongin watched him as he stashed the container away, awkwardly handing over the dustpan when Yixing asked for it.

"I received permission to contact the kingdom of Selven," Yixing began as he continued to chop the herbs he had been working on before Junmyeon paid them a visit. Jongin scrambled to return to his task of cleaning empty glass bottles, not wanting to look useless.

"I was thinking of sending them a sketch of your seal - if that's alright with you?" he asked, shooting him a glance. Jongin nodded.

"Sure."

 

* * *

 

 

He wasn't so sure anymore when he sat on a chair, back straight and hands folded in his lap, his borrowed robe orderly folded over the back of the chair. Yixing sat before him, meticulously sketching the seal while Jongin tried not to curl in on himself under his probing and entirely professional gaze.

Yixing's quarters were one of the few places Jongin had been to that had actual windows, and the sun rays were turning golden, throwing long shadows across the room. Jongin was angled to face the sun, which tinted his skin in a darker tone than it already was. Jongin wasn't terribly self-conscious about his body or skin tone, but it was hard to remember that when someone like Yixing was sitting so close to him, taking every detail of his body in with the precision of an alchemist.

He was quiet as he worked, and Jongin went from closing his eyes to aimlessly staring around the room, ignoring the way his heart rate picked up whenever Yixing's fingers guided him into a different angle. The touch was featherlight at most, but Jongin felt goosebumps running down his arms, and he knew Yixing noticed it, too. He wasn't entirely sure what the other's abilities entailed, but he was absolutely certain he noticed Jongin's state. He could only hope the other would mistake it for being shy. Not for the embarrassed, confused attraction it was.

God, Jongin's head was a mess. In an attempt not to further spiral down whatever hole he was thinking himself into, he focused on the rows of books, trying to decipher their titles from afar.

"Are you cold?" Yixing asked, voice even lower than usual.

"No," Jongin replied dutifully, and barely above a whisper.

"Turn to the left."

Bookshelves made way for rows and rows of delicate glass bottles, and Jongin flinched when a fingertip lightly pressed into his shoulder blade.

"Sorry."

"It's okay," Jongin muttered.

This was so awkward. He stared at the glass without seeing it, feeling like a failure.

He sat there until the lights turned orange, and the scratching of metal against paper finally stopped.

"I'm done," Yixing hummed, and Jongin heard him get to his feet. Before he could turn around and reach for his robe, he felt palms on his shoulder, strangely soothing against the sensitive, marked skin. It felt like cool silk being gently pressed against it, running along the black lines as Yixing's hand wandered up and down his shoulder blades and around to his front. Always symmetrical, never speeding up or slowing down. He was using his abilities on him, there was no questioning that, but it didn't stop Jongin's breath from hitching when he cupped his throat.

The touch was gone all of a sudden, the presence behind him leaving.

"Sorry," Yixing murmured, rubbing his hands and turning away to reach for his sketch. "I- it wasn't my place."

It was the first time he had heard Yixing stutter, or even hesitate. It made Jongin feel less like an idiot as he threw on his robe.

"It's okay," he said lamely. _I don't mind_ , he wanted to add. But it felt like he walking a fine line here, like the tiniest wrong move would drive Yixing away, so he didn't dare to. Instead, he turned away to subtly cool his cheeks with the backs of his hands while Yixing put away the sketch, turning on the lamps scattered across his room.

"I'll go to sleep first. Good night," Jongin announced, slinking away and into the former storage room that was his current home.

He had a pretty good feeling that things wouldn't be awkward the next day, that Yixing would act like nothing had ever happened. That didn't change the fact that Jongin sat on his bed for what felt like hours, watching the way the light reaching in through the ceiling gradually paled. It wasn't that he felt bad, just restless.

And while he sat there, absently staring at nothing in particular as he allowed the past few days to echo around his mind... something caught his attention.

It seemed so unimportant that Jongin told himself it didn't matter. When the crown prince showed up on their doorstep the next morning though, telling them that Yixing was suspected of treason, Jongin immediately remembered it.

Yixing reacted in a remarkably calm way, stating that he had never used alchemy to harm people, and that he was not aware of any of his potions having been stolen.

Jongin wished he would fight for himself a little harder. As things were, the prince left, looking more troubled than Yixing himself.

 

"You didn't even try to defend yourself," Jongin stated not too long after, while YIxing was pressing herbs as if the encounter hadn't taken place at all.

"Jongdae is having a hard time already," Yixing hummed. "What kind of a friend would I be, putting even more pressure on him?"

Jongin sighed. He couldn't just watch this without doing anything. It really wasn't his place but he could tell himself that he was doing it to keep his new life. Though it should be alright to do it for Yixing, too, right? After all, the other had helped him a dozen times now. It was time to return the favour.

"Can I head out for a bit?" Jongin asked, already getting to his feet. Yixing shot him a mildly worried look.

"You're not going to cause trouble, are you?"

Jongin felt almost insulted by that. He was no amateur, after all.

"Of course not."

Yixing thought about it for a moment, but ultimately let him go.

"Ah, but Jongin."

The door handle already in his hand, Jongin turned around one last time.

"Remember that your loyalties lie with the prince," Yixing said softly. "Not me."

Jongin huffed.

"You don't need to coddle me," he stated firmly. "I'm not asking of you to trust me, but you don't need to go out of your way to make me feel better. I'm not _that_ weak."

Yixing looked honestly taken aback, and with a curt, awkward nod, Jongin left the lab.


	39. Chapter 39 - [Silver]

Minseok stared at his sketches, half-heartedly arranging them over the desk. It was getting late, and Jongdae had yet to return.

Luckily, Minseok hadn't woken up with a hangover - nothing besides a vague feeling of nausea that dissipated soon enough - but he did wake up alone. Which was understandable - a prince couldn't sleep in whenever he wanted to, and Minseok vaguely hoped that Jongdae didn’t suffer from a hangover either.

It wasn't like they had _done_ anything other than gently making out. Not that Minseok was complaining. After all, it had been arguably more than he had done with anyone before, and he simply wanted to know whether Jongdae regretted it or not. Whether he would act like it never happened or awkwardly ask him to at least pretend it didn't.

It hadn't seemed all that one-sided the night before, but then again, Jongdae had been tipsy.

Absently, Minseok thought of the way Jongdae's arm had felt around his waist, warm, heavy, comforting, his distinct scent lingering in the air-

With a sigh, he stacked all his sketches and put them away with unnecessary force. He just didn't have the brain capacity to care about them at this very moment. He was just about to make himself a cup of tea when the door opened, revealing the very person that refused to leave his mind.

"Oh," he muttered dumbly, a sentiment Jongdae seemed to share, before a certain nervousness settled in his expression.

"Hi," he said awkwardly, and Minseok's stomach dropped. Before Jongdae could even close the door, someone was calling for him. Running on autopilot, Minseok reached for a second cup, listening to someone requesting to talk to Jongdae. Of course, Jongdae agreed. Minseok's hand hovered over a third cup.

"Come in... if it's alright with you, Minseok?"

Surprised, he turned around to see none other than the young, former assassin standing in the door frame, shooting him an unsure look.

His hand clenched, but then he took the third cup.

"Sure," he said curtly. It was evident that he wasn't all that comfortable, and Jongdae was aware of that, having Jongin take a seat opposite of them.

In the end it was hard to feel threatened with how uncomfortable the boy himself looked, wringing his hands on the table.

"What did you want to talk about?" Jongdae asked calmly, and, as an afterthought, he added, "does Yixing know you're here?"

"He does," Jongin admitted immediately. "I'm here because of what you said to him this morning."

Minseok took a tiny sip of his piping hot tea. So Jongdae had headed out to get things settled with Yixing straight away. Admirable.

"I think he's innocent," Jongin stated, surprisingly firmly.

"And you know that how exactly?" Jongdae asked skeptically. "You only arrived after the incident, didn't you? During the masked ball, if I recall correctly. Concealed as one of the dancers."

"That's right," Jongin admitted, looking nervous. "But I can still feel people's abilities, and his reaction to the accusation was way too weak for a guilty person."

"Yixing seems to be a good actor though," Minseok threw in, making amends when he received an almost petulant glare in return, "I want to believe him, too, you know? But this is not solid proof. Is that the only reason you think he's innocent?"

He felt Jongdae's hand on his thigh, and subtly interlaced their fingers.

"He allowed me to meet up with you and tell you everything I know," Jongin muttered. "He's not even trying to defend himself, he's just... waiting for the truth to come out. He even told me to trust you over him, because _my loyalties should lie with the prince_."

Next to him, Jongdae was staring at the table. His connection with Yixing ran deep, that much was obvious to Minseok, and this was obviously not easy for him. Yet they had to remain skeptical.

"I don't have absolutely solid proof, but-" Jongin began, only to flinch violently, "but-"

"It's okay," Jongdae hummed immediately, "calm down. We have time."

It took Minseok a second to realize that it must be the seal causing his pain. He didn't know how it worked exactly, but judging by the way the boy breathed, gradually relaxing, it must have been linked to his anxiety. He wondered if the pain was similar to the one they felt upon resisting the mark.  
Jongin opened his eyes, staring at the table for a moment, waiting to see if the pain would return, before meeting Jongdae's eyes.

"I found something. It's not solid proof, but I wanted to share it with you, anyway. It's up to you whether you believe me or not. Or whether you want to punish me, for that matter."

 

He took something out of his pocket and placed it on the table before him. It was a folded piece of paper. Gingerly, Jongdae picked it up to unfold it. Looking over his shoulder, Minseok could hear the breath that got stuck in Jongdae's throat.

 

* * *

 

The next day, Minseok was following along as Jongdae and Junmyeon led the way to their next appointment. He was still mulling over their conversation, wondering if what they were about to do was stupid. They had consulted Chanyeol and even Jongdae's brother, and the latter had been really pushy about it, to the point where Jongdae relented. It was probably a mix of brotherly love and guilt that made him cave in. Jongdae had mentioned multiple times that he and his brother had drifted apart, but there was obviously still something left of their once so close relationship. Maybe solving this mystery and clearing Jongdae's name while bringing justice to the perpetrator would bring the brothers closer together again.

Minseok had to admit that he could relate much more to the Jongdae who was on friendly, but distant terms with just about anyone, but this was a part of him, and Minseok had changed, too. It wasn't half bad, having people to rely on and to share your life with, even though he was probably still anti-social by common standards. Still, if, say, Chanyeol would suddenly think of him as an enemy, that would... hurt. He'd want to clear up the misunderstanding, as well.

  
  


"Can we stop by Yixing's lab?" Jongdae asked casually, and Junmyeon nodded.

"Sure. There's still some time until your aunt expects to see you."

Minseok felt nervous, but his face betrayed nothing as they walked down an all-too familiar corridor. Jongdae didn't even bother knocking and just entered the room, gesturing for Junmyeon and Minseok to follow along.

Minseok closed the door behind them and then turned to face the other people in the room which consisted of Yixing, Jongin... and Chanyeol.

"Chanyeol? What are you doing here?" Junmyeon asked, clearly confused. Jongin crossed his arms, looking entirely unimpressed.

"Waiting for an apology from you," he suggested. He was watching Junmyeon intently, probably feeling for his reactions - apparently, the other was very sensitive towards other people's abilities.

"What for?" he asked, and Jongin narrowed his eyes at him.

"The nerve-"

"Junmyeon," Jongdae began, unwilling to play any games. "It was you who staged Chanyeol's accident, right?"

"Huh?" Junmyeon asked, and Minseok had to hand it to him for only sounding mildly distraught. Chanyeol looked uncomfortable while Yixing was sitting the furthest away, silently watching the scene unfold with a mellow expression.

"We've been thinking and came to the conclusion that only a handful of people knew of Chanyeol's... incident," Jongdae said carefully. "The only people who consciously knew of it were Yixing, Kyungsoo, me... and you."

He was still avoiding naming his brother out loud. Keeping the twins a secret from someone able to feel other people's abilities was entirely pointless, but this was not the time to address that.

After a second of shocked silence, Junmyeon exhaled in a shuddery laugh.

"Are you in your right mind, Jongdae? I'm sorry for being present that day-"

"You've always shown way too much interest in alchemy, asking all those specific questions regarding amnesia," Jongin cut him off, sounding almost defensive. He seemed oddly invested, and Minseok didn't know what to think of that yet.

Junmyeon actually rubbed his forehead as if he was fighting an upcoming headache.

"Yeah, right. I'm also sorry for showing interest in alchemy, which, by the way, I've always done-"

"You didn't answer my question," Jongdae said, stepping in front of him, his tone devoid of anger. "Be honest. Junmyeon."

He waited until the other looked up.

"Did you do it?"

Minseok could see the way Junmyeon's gaze flickered between Jongdae's eyes, and for a few, deafening seconds, it was silent.

Then he shook his head, slowly-

"He's lying," Jongin burst out, and Jongdae silenced him simply by raising his left hand, not breaking eye contact with Junmyeon.

"Okay," he said quietly, and before Jongin could continue to make a fuss, Jongdae handed him the letter. This time, Minseok could see his eyes widening at the mere sight of the paper that Jongin had stolen from his quarters. He unfolded it, anyway, and Minseok stared at the paper despite having read it already. Junmyeon’s handwriting was usually messy, at best, because he was usually in a hurry. This letter, however, was perfectly readable, carefully written letters placed in the center of the paper.

 

_Read this, Junmyeon._

_Don't be alarmed. I did it. It happened on purpose._

_They will offer you a job, but no matter what, do_ **_not_ ** _agree._

_Leave the country and start a life somewhere else. Trust me. It's for the best._

 

"And what's the meaning of this?" Jongdae asked almost gently. Junmyeon lowered his head, his eyes scrunched closed.

"I didn't mean to," he whispered eventually. "I thought it would only erase a day, at most. A few hours, maybe."

When he looked up, his pained gaze kept flickering to Chanyeol and back to Jongdae.

"I've had the elixir for a long time and informed myself even longer. I didn't realize that I had taken an unfinished, undiluted version of it. I didn't mean for it to turn out this way."

His voice dropped, sounding almost hollow.

"I kept the kingdom's secret."

"But why did you steal the potion in the first place?" Jongdae asked, and a smidge of annoyance flickered over Junmyeon's expression.

"You already found the letter, didn't you? Why do you even bother asking?"

"Because I want to hear the truth from you," Jongdae insisted, and Junmyeon seemed to get increasingly angry, pent up frustration leaking out of every syllable.

"Because I wanted out of this **mess**."

At the almost scalding tone, Jongdae's expression became insecure, and Minseok resisted the urge to take his hand, to show his support. There was only so much he could do for the prince right now.

"I'm tired of my life in this castle - I'm tired of devoting my entire life to the political shenanigans of other people, I'm tired of trying to keep all the ridiculous secrets of this kingdom," Junmyeon listed, and it seemed impossible for him to stop. "I'm tired of feeling terrified at every single earthquake, I'm tired of going to bed, wondering if whatever is down there will eat me in my sleep, and I'm tired of not using my powers!"

Minseok stared at him, shell-shocked by the outburst.

Junmyeon's voice grew fainter, back to being desperate.

"I know the kingdom can't let me go with all the knowledge that I have, so I took the potion to use it on myself," he said, barely above a whisper. "But then I decided to put the kingdom first. I should have just downed the entire thing myself and let you deal with everything on your own."

"Don't say that," Yixing piped up for the first time since they entered the room. "It would have done more than just erase your memories at that concentration. You could have gotten severe and irreversible brain damage."

During the entire encounter, Junmyeon hadn't been able to meet Yixing's eyes, and instead of addressing the fact that he stole from him, that he used their friendly relationship and didn't even bother to defend him when he was accused, Yixing was still concerned about his safety.

Junmyeon covered his face with his hands, but the small sob was audible, and he was shaking.

"I just wanted out, I can't do this anymore," he whispered, and there was not a single bit of triumph in the air, despite them finding the perpetrator. There was no satisfaction to be gained from seeing someone like Junmyeon break down.

"I'm sorry," Jongdae said quietly, looking nothing but miserable. "I should have noticed that. As a prince, I failed you. And as a friend, too."

Junmyeon kept sobbing soundlessly, and Jongdae stood there, not even trying to escape his responsibility.

"What you did was a crime, even though you didn't intend the harm it inflicted," he announced, forcing his voice to stay calm. "And for that, you'll have to face punishment."

Minseok could see Jongdae clenching and unclenching his fists, wanting to reach out, but holding back.

"I will personally back you up though," Jongdae promised. "I will see to it that the outcome is fair. And after that, I will find a way to get you out of here. I owe you that at least."

 

Junmyeon was still crying when Jongdae and Jongin led him out, but he didn't struggle.

Minseok stayed back with Chanyeol, whose eyes were suspiciously red, and a somber-looking Yixing.

Chanyeol moved first, blinking away his unshed tears.

"Let's go back?" he silently asked Minseok, who nodded.

"Will you be alright?" he carefully asked Yixing, who answered with a small, predictable smile.

"Of course."

Minseok was rather sure that insisting wouldn't bring him anywhere with Yixing now, so he only nodded goodbye to him and followed Chanyeol back to their room. On the way, Chanyeol placed an arm around his shoulders, and Minseok wasn't so sure whether the gesture was meant to give comfort to him or Chanyeol himself. He didn't complain though, and in response placed an arm around his waist, squeezing carefully.


	40. Chapter 40 - [Copper]

Chen scoffed.

"Junmyeon," he muttered in obvious contempt. "I shouldn't be surprised."

"Don't say that," Chanyeol argued as he shuffled along, still awkward on his skates.

"It's true though," Chen insisted, clearly in a bad mood despite the truth being uncovered at last. "Nobody ever cared as much about the rules as Junmyeon - not even Jongdae. It's like he never had a life of his own, with how he allowed it to consume him."

"Well, obviously he _wanted_ a life of his own," Chanyeol snapped, a little harsher than intended. Realizing how rude that had come out, considering Chen’s own circumstances, he slowed down.

"I'm sorry," he sighed. "I'm not exactly one to tell you that, and you've known him for way longer than I have. I just think that you wouldn't think like that if you'd seen him yesterday."

Chen's expression relaxed into something more somber.

"Are you sure about that? I'm not all that nice, you know?"

"You wouldn't have had to be as nice as Yixing or Jongdae to sympathize with him," Chanyeol commented, and only when the other's expression twitched into something even more guarded, did he realize his mistake.

"Right," Chen breathed out, not aggressive or accusing, but _what_ he was feeling right then was hard to tell. He turned around to slowly skate down the tunnel, using the extremely slight slope of the ground to roll forwards without doing much.

"Sorry for getting so worked up," he stated, the words coming out much easier now that he wasn't facing Chanyeol anymore. "This concerns you alone, and if you're fine with how things turned out, then I'll get over it."

"It concerns you, too, you know," Chanyeol admitted, but Chen was following a different train of thought entirely.

"Jongdae really is nicer than me."

Chanyeol grimaced, regretting his lack of a brain to mouth filter.

"He's always been a softie," Chen continued, sounding melancholic. "I was a total idiot for believing he'd hurt me on purpose. Guess I really was stuck down here for a little too long."

"I think you're doing pretty well," Chanyeol provided clumsily, "for someone who rarely ever sees the surface."

Chen actually snorted at that, but he could see the appreciation in his grin.

"What a way to cheer me up, my fellow highness," he teased, and Chanyeol attempted to slap him - of course, the other evaded him with the ease of a professional skater.

"Don't call me that. You don't see me addressing you as highness!"

"That's cause I'm _pretty_ far from being one," Chen singsonged, but Chanyeol wouldn't have it.

"Technically, you're more of a royal than I am."

"No, I'm not-"

"Do you do that a lot, comparing yourself to your brother?"

That actually wiped the mischief off his face for a moment.

"No, I don't," he began, and when Chanyeol was about to cut him off, Chen slapped his palm over his mouth.

"-not anymore," he finished, turning around to take a right turn, with Chanyeol awkwardly following along.

"I used to, and there were times when I thought he was the lamest person on earth," he admitted lightly.

Chanyeol hummed, signalizing that he was listening.

"There was also a time where I thought he was the most amazing person in the world - though that insight came a little too late, I guess. I'm not sure how we drifted apart like that."

"I mean, it's understandable," Chanyeol said. "Life has been pretty shitty to both of you."

Again, Chen suppressed a laugh.

"You could say that."

"But I'm sure you can still get closer to your brother again, if you want to," Chanyeol suggested cautiously. "Jongdae isn't nearly as much of an emotionless hardass as he makes himself out to be."

This time Chen straight up laughed, the sound melodic as it echoed off the tunnel walls.

"Are we talking about the same person?" he asked, and Chanyeol pouted.

"You two are more similar than you think," he muttered, embarrassed, and almost stumbled when Chen threw an arm around his waist to tug him along.

"Similar, but different," he hummed. "I'll take it. Sounds good."

 _Sounds less lonely_ , is what he didn't say. But Chanyeol felt like he was slowly starting to understand the inner workings of stubborn, fiery, reckless but ultimately warm-hearted, prince Chen.

 

Or maybe not.

Chanyeol would like to go back in time, just an hour or so, and take back his earlier statement.

Chen hummed in satisfaction as he bit his way down Chanyeol's neck.

He wasn't even sure how things had escalated so quickly. One moment, he had accompanied Chen while he fed black shadows into the cage, and the next he'd found himself pushed up against a wall, and now his back met the surprisingly fluffy mattress down in Chen's room.

This was probably a really bad idea, but declining was incredibly hard when the other was so warm and insistent. It wasn't that Chanyeol didn't want this, because every fibre of his body was aching for it already. It had been a long time, and having a solid body pressed against him was satisfying beyond words. Chen may be shorter than him, but beneath the flowy robes he wore over his uniform, he was hiding a surprisingly toned body - a fact that he’d been trying to hide before, to avoid their suspicion, but after being exposed, he’d stopped bothering. And Chanyeol had quickly noticed that particular difference between the twins. Whether or not Chen had noticed him eyeing his arms or legs, he couldn’t tell. It was even more obvious now that the other was pressing him into the mattress - there was not an ounce of fat on Chen, and it quickly became evident that he knew exactly how to use his strength, pushing and pulling with purpose. Chanyeol shuddered when he felt him tug on his ear, his breath hot and heavy.

"Shit, I missed you," Chen half-whispered, half-moaned, hands already slipping beneath his shirt and running over his sides in an almost greedy way.

It was his words, though, that made Chanyeol tighten his grip on the other's side, twisting away from him.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" he rasped out, and Chen blinked away the haze only to come out confused and slightly impatient.

"Seems like a fantastic idea to me," he commented, hands wandering higher, rubbing his chest. "Unless you don't want to?"

"I do," Chanyeol began, pressing Chen's hand against his skin through the fabric, to prevent him from playing with his nipples. "But isn't it kinda unfair to you?"

"Hmm?" Chen asked distractedly, pressing their lower bodies together. Chanyeol wasn't sure whether he had ever tried so hard to keep himself together.

"It feels like I'm using you," Chanyeol admitted, hissing when Chen rolled his hips down roughly.

"I wish you'd _start_ using me," Chen muttered jokingly, and Chanyeol whined.

"I'm serious, Chen-"

That seemed to break the spell, and the other sat up, both thighs comfortable on either side of Chanyeol. The tension dissolved temporarily when he exhaled, cupped Chanyeol's face and looked down at him, his eyes still slightly dark, but expression serious.

"Hey. Don't worry about me. If you're into it, and I'm into it, we can do whatever we want. I can promise that you're more hung up on the past right now than I am."

"You sure?" Chanyeol asked, feeling much younger all of a sudden. Chen had the nerve to glance down at his own lower body and then nod.

"Yeah. Pretty sure," he commented, and then turned serious again. "Jokes aside though, I'm an adult, Yeol. I can take it."

Chanyeol nodded, trying to convince himself that he was being honest. He looked nothing but sincere though, and if he was being honest with himself, Chanyeol was pretty sure that he wasn't going to string him along. That he was already feeling _something_ for him, and that this something would grow like a plant cut back: stronger than ever.

Chen leaned back, accidentally brushing his butt against Chanyeol's  sensitive parts to add to his suffering.

"And honestly," he started casually, "of all the shit that has happened, I highly doubt that _this_ is gonna be what breaks me."

His expression turned mischievous in the blink of an eye, and there was a challenge twinkling in his gaze.

"Unless you do it right, that is," he purred.

Chanyeol wanted to have a clever comeback, but he could feel his face going beet red instead. He faintly wondered whether he had ever been a satisfying lay to Chen, but the other didn't allow him to dwell on it as he pulled his shirt over his head, the seams snapping in protest, and then was all over him again.

Chanyeol allowed himself to let go of his doubts and worries, blindly exploring the other's body, fingers running over his back, over smooth skin and faint scars while he left warm, wet kisses all over Chen's neck. It actually made him mewl, a tiny and impatient sound, and then he dropped his entire weight on Chanyeol, pulling him even closer.

"Come on, I thought you were horny," Chen murmured into his ear, sounding impatient and... needy. It was hidden pretty well, but it was definitely there.

"I know for a fact that you're very much capable of messing me up," he whispered, still rutting against him in long, hard strides. "So give it your best shot, babe."

Chanyeol tried, he really did. And it got easier when he realized that Chen rewarded rough touches with little gasps and smiles, arching into him, asking for more. Maybe it was body memory, or maybe something more primal than that, but it only added to Chanyeol wanting to ruin him, to the point where this devious little minx didn't have the capacity to play his reactions up like that anymore.

Which is why he didn't do him fast and frantic, as Chen had probably hoped for, but slow and hard, focusing on pressing the air out of his lungs as he held him down, using his height to his advantage. At some point, he stopped worrying about gripping his waist too tightly, about pushing the back of his head down too roughly, and when Chanyeol climaxed, Chen mewled, half-heartedly struggling as he felt the warm release inside him. He was breathing heavily, and when Chanyeol's hands ran lower, attempting to touch him, he was slapped aside.

"That was fun," Chen muttered, forehead pushed into the blankets, breath hitching as Chanyeol pulled out, ready to clean him up, to go down on him, to do anything, really. Before he could even attempt any of this, though, his back met the bed, damp and sticky with precum, and Chen was grinning down at him.

"My turn."

Suddenly, the way Chen had played with his ass earlier made much more sense. Despite the other's impatience and almost feral expression, Chanyeol could tell that he tried to go slow, making sure once more that he wouldn't hurt him, but Chanyeol was honestly slightly too fucked out to care. It didn't take long for Chen to cum, and _of course_ he made a mess, and of course he didn't care about cleaning up. For some reason, Chanyeol wasn't surprised at all. He didn't mind though, not when the other's kisses were so warm and pliant, finally gentle and rid of tension.

"You're fucking perfect," Chen hummed against his lips, and Chanyeol wanted to preen and hold him closer.

"Sorry for going kinda overboard," Chen rasped into the crook of his neck, finally settling down. Chanyeol chuckled, high on hormones.

"How often did we do it again? How long did it take me to learn to keep up with you?" he asked airily, and Chen nipped his skin in retaliation.

"Who said you ever kept up with me?" he joked, and then wrestled Chanyeol around until he could spoon him.

"I can't breathe," Jongdae muttered in explanation, and Chanyeol just accepted it, enjoying the warmth of Chen's arm around him as well as the little puffs of air against his neck.

"I think you got the hang out of it pretty fast," Chen murmured after a while, and it took him a moment to get what he was referring to. When he felt the blanket being tugged up to cover them, he chuckled.

"We're so gross-"

A kiss was planted on the back of his neck.

"Shut up," Chen hummed. "I know you don't mind."

It was certainly unfair that the other knew him so well, but Chanyeol was too content to argue, and instead put his arm over Chen's, interlacing their fingers.

He was the last to drift off, enjoying the warm skin and steady breathing fanning over his neck.

Yes, he could see how Chen had missed that.

He could also see how he himself had loved this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *inhales deeply*  
> Sorry for the probably awful smut!  
> Anyway, there's two days left - we're nearing the end ☆


	41. Chapter 41  -[Silver]

The expression on Junmyeon's face was dull, even when he twitched as the needle met his skin.

Under the table, Jongdae grabbed his hand, and Minseok squeezed it. After three painful hours, the mark was about to be completed. Jongdae could have used the time to work but he'd only sat there, staring at Junmyeon, at the hooded figure working on his neck, at the needle and the dark ink staining his skin.

A full year of being sealed was the punishment they had settled on a few days ago.

Junmyeon had barely spoken during the trial, and he wasn't speaking now, lifelessly staring at the table. The sight was miserable, and Minseok couldn't begin to imagine how Jongdae must feel.

"It might be less of a punishment than you think it is," he had said to Jongdae the night before, playing with his fingers as they were about to fall asleep. "After all, his powers only added to his stress, building up and adding pressure with the lack of use. Maybe lifting that burden for a bit won't be that bad."

Jongdae hadn't been all that convinced, and right then, Minseok found it hard to convince himself either. It was impossible to tell what Junmyeon was thinking.

In a corner of the room sat Jongin, his gaze lowered as he waited for the priest to take a look at him.

The past days had been rough. Without Junmyeon herding Jongdae from place to place, keeping track of his appointments, Jongdae had struggled to keep up. He refused to take a new assistant though. He hadn't said it out loud, but Minseok knew it was his way of repenting, so he tried to help out wherever he could, accompanying him for the time being. They were both tired, nerves stretched thin despite the rather relaxed, political meetings. Everyone kept asking about Junmyeon, from ambassadors to staff members, driving home just how much everyone had relied on him. Avoiding the questions and protecting him was hard.

But it would be alright, Minseok thought. After this, there would be no more assassination attempts and no reason to worry about anything but the usual politics. No more secrets to tug all of them apart, no more switching between the siblings. Jongdae would eventually get a new assistant, Minseok would delve further into architecture, and Chanyeol would continue to be Kyungsoo's student. Things seemed to finally settle, at last.

At least that's what Minseok thought until he was hit by a violent stab of pain without warning, and a sudden shudder ran through Jongdae, who ripped his hand free with a gasp.

"Jongdae?" Minseok asked carefully, trying not to be alarmed. Junmyeon was looking at him, too, the first reaction he had shown the entire day. Jongdae jumped to his feet, looking pale and highly disturbed, gaze unfocused.

"Something is about to happen," he whispered, and Minseok felt another painful prick in his lung. It was stronger than the random pain he felt whenever Chanyeol lit a lamp or warmed himself up. This wasn’t Jongdae simply using the pathetic remnants of his power, he was actively tugging at his bindings, desperately demanding more. He was pushing and pulling, reaching out, and whatever he saw had him clench his fist on the table.

"We need to go," he muttered suddenly, pushing back the chair.

The priest put down the needle, remaining ever silent and unreadable, while a flicker of insecurity - maybe even fear - flickered over Junmyeon's expression.

"What's wrong, Jongdae?" Minseok asked, trying his best to sound secure and grounded, but Jongdae was already tugging him to his feet. He'd only taken two steps when he seemed to remember something, and he closed his eyes, looking conflicted. With a heavy exhale, he turned back to the table and looked at Junmyeon, his voice breathy and erratic.

"I'm sorry Junmyeon, but I'll have to put you in charge one last time."

Anxiety met disbelief both in Junmyeon’s expression and voice.

"I'm a criminal," he said quietly, and Jongdae waved him off.

"And I'm a prince. I'm putting you in charge," he decided. "Call an emergency meeting and evacuate the castle. There's an attack going on, an act of war. I'm giving you full authority to represent me. Do what's best for us."

Minseok's heart skipped a beat.

War?

Jongdae turned to Jongin next.

"You'll protect him," he commanded, leaving no room for argument. "Minseok, let's go-"

"Jongdae, wait-" he began, but it was no use. Jongdae was already hurrying down the hallway, tugging him along.

"Who's attacking? And where?" Minseok yelled as they pushed themselves past people to take a less crowded corridor.

"I don't know, but we need to act _now_ ," Jongdae insisted. "Whatever is going on, it's a dirty battle."

Everyone knew what that meant - an attack where people used their abilities to squash an enemy consisting of underprepared or simply ability-lacking soldiers. It was arguably the lowest form of warfare. Who was attacking whom though?

Images of smug, surprisingly docile politicians flashed up before Minseok's eyes, but then the actual meaning of Jongdae's words sank in. If there was a rapid increase in the use of powers somewhere in the world, that meant-

"Go and get Yixing, I'll get Kyungsoo - we’ll need him," Jongdae barked, and just like that, he let go of Minseok and continued down the stairs, presumably towards the forge. For a second, Minseok stood there, disoriented, and then he felt the first earthquake vibrate through the ground. It took him back to reality, and he sprinted on, trying not to lose his balance.

There had been too many earthquakes recently, and no matter how soft, they were always a sign of disturbances running through the mountain's core - disturbances that were called forth by the excessive use of powers somewhere in the world. Back then, Minseok hadn't understood why every tiny earthquake made Jongdae perk up and take precautionary measures, why Chen would drop everything and hurry down into the maze. Now he knew better - they were a side effect, a warning of the increased number of shadows about to spill out of the tunnels.

He burst inside the lab, and Yixing jumped at the sudden noise, looking up from where he stood by the work counter.

"Yixing," Minseok huffed out, gasping for air and cringing at the way his throat was burning, "Jongdae saw something, and he wants you to come downstairs."

Yixing didn't ask a single question and wordlessly grabbed a few bottles off a shelf, stuffing them inside his pockets on his way to the door.

Another earthquake made the glass shiver noisily, but Yixing closed the door to his lab and led the way. There was a certain uneasiness hanging in the air as people began to evacuate, not yet unsettled enough to fall into actual panic.

"Where's Jongin?" Yixing asked as he gently, but firmly, tugged Minseok into a forgotten passage that led further down.

"With Junmyeon."

Yixing didn't reply to that, too focused on flying down the narrow, winding stairs without tripping. Minseok was pretty sure that unlike Yixing, there was nothing _he_ could do to help anyone down there, but there was no way he would stay behind.

The earthquakes had stopped, and Minseok briefly wondered whether this was what war had felt like in Berien. Foreboding earthquakes and danger crawling out of the very mountain to eat away at those trapped down there for safety - he quickly chased away the thought. The tunnels were already making him feel slightly claustrophobic, and besides - they weren't helpless this time. They had Chen, and they had other gifted people who were trained to prevent disasters just like this one.

The moment the tunnel made way for the main hall, Minseok heard the noise, the yells.

Someone was yelling things in the distance, and Yixing was briskly walking ahead, navigating through the maze with ease. Minseok struggled to keep up without falling into a jog, and when they finally exited it to see the Oasis, the sight was nauseating. There was darkness leaking out of the tunnels, soaking the ground and crawling up the walls, looking no more alive than puddles staining the stone, but Minseok knew better than that - Chanyeol had once told him the shadows moved slowly, but move they did.

He saw Luhan standing by the cage, holding the wires while he yelled at Chen and Zitao who were positioned around the entries of the cave, with Chen collecting shadows.

Who immediately noticed Yixing's presence.

"What are you doing down here?" he snapped when they were close enough, ramming the back of his left hand against the cage, moving the shadows. Minseok couldn't even see inside the cage with how dark the air already was.

Yixing walked towards the cage and Minseok followed, one step behind.

"Jongdae sent us," he explained calmly. "It seems like-"

"Stop!" someone screamed, and Minseok whipped around to see Jongdae running towards them, with Kyungsoo and Chanyeol in tow, frantically gesturing and yelling in pure panic.

"Get away from the cage! **Get away**!"

For a split second, everybody was confused. Chen recovered first, shoving Minseok away and causing him to stumble. Yixing held onto him, and with the deafening sound of a dozen whips cracking, the golden wires spanning the cage snapped, and the darkness spilled out.


	42. Chapter 42 - [Gold]

This was the image Jongdae had been seeing. The one that had been so sharp, so urgent and violent that it had managed to pierce through the dull haze of his sealed power. No guns, no blood, no corpses. Just whispering, fluttering darkness flooding his vision.

 

The wires snapped right around the entrance, and the spots leaked out, a gash of thick darkness spreading over the ground and filling the air like mist.

Jongdae felt his heart stop-

-and then pick up its rampant pace again when Yixing and Minseok managed to back away in time, only thanks to Chen blocking the way and immediately attempting to draw the spots out of the ground again.

All hell broke loose after that, with Luhan cursing and yelling at Zitao to help them, and the spots spilling out more and more, so condensed that they rolled over the ground uncharacteristically quickly. They were losing the upper hand and losing it fast.

"Luhan, stop them from escaping," Chen yelled. "We need to fix the cage, can you cross the gap?"

"I don't know-" Luhan countered, torn between letting go of the remaining wires and rushing towards the gaping hole.

"I'll fix it," Kyungsoo announced, pushing past Jongdae with brisk steps, walking towards the darkness with no hesitation at all.

"Watch my back," he demanded, addressing no one in particular, and Chen was about to comply when he saw Chanyeol hesitantly stick to Kyungsoo.

"Chanyeol, stay back! What are you doing here?!"

"I need him," Kyungsoo explained curtly, and Chen groaned, looking up and towards the general direction where Zitao was still holding the spots that threatened to crawl up the walls and out of their reach.

"Tao! Get Chanyeol and Minseok out of here, this is too much-"

" **No**!" Jongdae cut him off, finally snapping into action. "Hold the spots! Don't let go!"

Chen whipped around to glare at him.

"Get lost, Dae!" he snapped, but instead of backing off, Jongdae stepped closer, past Yixing and Minseok, careful not to get too close to the tainted ground.

"Shut up and do what I say," he demanded, voice not allowing any protest. "Keep holding them back until they’ve fixed the cage-"

"I know what I'm doing, Jongdae!"

"And I know what **we** will be doing!" Jongdae yelled, raising the volume to drown Chen out, "You're the most powerful one here and you are needed right now - there are spots everywhere!"

There was still defiance edged into Chen's expression, but he didn't linger on it, instead whirling around to face the spots again, hurrying towards the area where Kyungsoo and Chanyeol were positioned at the cage-

"No!" Jongdae barked, "You keep the spots from spreading too far-"

"Just go and get Junmyeon's ass down here," Chen yelled, and Jongdae wanted to cry at his brother's lack of cooperation.

"The seal was already completed-"

"Then Yixing can-"

Jongdae shut him up by walking towards him, over the rapidly closing gaps on the black ground, and with wide eyes, Chen jumped towards him, keeping the spots away with his sheer aura.

"What are you," he began, but Jongdae only grabbed his upper arms tightly, staring him in the eye as everything around them seemed to drown in chaos.

"You listen to me right now," he began firmly, not a smidge of doubt in his voice. "Everyone's safety depends on your power right this moment, so stop wasting it by floundering around - if we want to get out of this mess, you better shut the fuck up and listen to me just this once. Got it?"

For a moment, they just stared at each other like that, and it was the strangest, most fleeting sense of deja-vu.

Then Chen broke it by giving in.

"Fine," he spat, half-pushing, half-dragging Jongdae out of the tainted area. "But if something happens to Chanyeol, _I'll fucking end you_."

Jongdae bit back a comment and only briefly squeezed Chen's shoulder.

"Keep the spots at bay," he repeated, and as soon as he was safe, Chen turned away to do just that with a frustrated groan. Jongdae swallowed, raising his voice for everybody to hear.

"Tao, hold your position, like I said! Luhan, maintain the cage and keep an eye on Kyungsoo and Chanyeol," he ordered. The spots were plentiful and condensed enough to potentially eat away at Chanyeol, whose powers were almost entirely sealed, but with Kyungsoo so close to him, he would be safe.

"Can you guys fix it?" he called over to them, and Kyungsoo grunted.

"We're on it- Chanyeol, you need to heat this piece up- try it!"

Chanyeol did - Jongdae felt it. It stung painfully, and he was willing to endure it, but it was apparently not nearly enough. While the two kept fumbling, Jongdae assessed the area. Zitao was placing both of his palms on the wall, reaching out to freeze every single shadow as soon as it leaked out of a tunnel. As far as Jongdae knew, even simply covering such a large area didn't come easily to Zitao, but judging by how pitch black the spots were starting to look, the strain must be _immense_.

"Jongdae, what do you want me to do?" he heard Yixing ask from behind, and he only lifted his hand without so much as looking towards him.

"Nothing, stay on standby."

Unlike Chen, Yixing didn't question him. Thinking of Chen-

"I don't think you can take many more, Chen," he called over to his brother. The container was already completely black as far as Jongdae could tell.

"I know!" Chen huffed in frustration, and Jongdae could see the spots around him dissipate, giving way to the energy that was probably radiating off him in anger. "But what do you want me to do? Shoo them back and forth?"

Jongdae thought about it, quickly going over their options in his head. Chen couldn't empty the container before the cage was repaired. Zitao was barely holding onto all the spots, keeping them frozen in time, while Luhan was currently reaching out, trying to keep the darkness from further leaking out of the oasis. Chanyeol was still arguing with Kyungsoo, Yixing was on standby, and he himself was useless, so he could only think of one thing. It wasn't ideal by any means, but it was their best bet.

"Just rip them!" Jongdae called out, and Chen shot him an incredulous look.

"You sure?" he asked, and it wasn't a challenge this time, it was a real question. A request for permission, even.

"Yes. They'll gather again, but it might buy us the time we need to fix the cage."

Chen shrugged to himself.

"Fine by me," he said, and Jongdae heard the air crackle, tiny sparks appearing as he ran his hands over the walls, the sheer energy dissolving the spots and turning them to black dust. The matter would only stay dead for so long until other, living, spots would get close enough to soak them up and re-ignite them, but until then, they should have the situation under control. Chen took care of the ones on the ground first, before moving along the walls and climbing the stairs to take on the ones Zitao was holding onto. With the path being clear for the time being, Jongdae walked over to Chanyeol and Kyungsoo.

"How much longer will you need?"

"Not much," Chanyeol replied confidently, pushing against what Jongdae would label a door buck, while Kyungsoo was using his ability to bend something that made him subtly shake with exertion. "The latch that snapped was rusty and overstrained, and there's no way to braze anything right now, so we came up with a temporary solution instead - we're basically stapling the hole closed for now by using spare parts since we don't have any of these golden wire things."

 

"So it'll hold?" Jongdae asked urgently.

"Probably," Chanyeol said, wrapping a bunch of silver cables around the door and the loose net of golden wires, pulling it taut again.

"Most of these parts are not natural conductors though," Kyungsoo huffed, pausing to mutter an order at Chanyeol, who scrambled to assist him. "If you put too much force on them, they'll crumble."

"Okay," was all Jongdae said, because this was a risk they could afford to take. Even if the shadows were this plentiful, they would still be unable to get through a net radiating energy, weak or not. There was a hand on his back, and Jongdae twitched, about to tell Minseok to stay back when Kyungsoo hissed as if he'd been burnt.

"Luhan, let go - that's way too much!"

Instinctively, Luhan _did_ let go, and the golden wires stopped gleaming, allowing the spots to spill out through every single gap. Panicked, Jongdae stumbled back, and Minseok lifted his arm in defense.

Luhan scrambled to get a hold of the mass that had already spilled, desperately reaching out in every direction to the point where Jongdae felt his own limbs grow numb for a moment.

They'd had play fights as children, so Jongdae didn't panic at the feeling and just kept still until Luhan regained his grip and focus. He felt the hand on his back tighten, and on the ground he could see the spots staining the stone, carefully avoiding them, but not due to Kyungsoo's aura.

At first, Jongdae was confused, but then realization sparked an idea.

Kyungsoo stepped away from the cage, giving it a frantic look over while Chanyeol tugged a last cable into place.

"Okay. It's the best we can do."

"Good. Step away, Chanyeol," Jongdae ordered, gently tugging Chanyeol away before turning to Minseok.

"You'll operate the cage."

Minseok looked at him as if he'd gone crazy.

"What? I'm sealed-"

"That's why you'll be comfortable doing so," Jongdae assumed. "Your power is purely elemental, isn't it?"

Minseok hesitated.

"It used to be-"

"Then it's perfect for fuelling the cage,"Jongdae cut him off by patting his shoulder, lightly pushing him towards it.

"But I'm sealed," Minseok repeated, and the fact that he was perfectly convinced he was incapable said a lot about Minseok and his relationship with the cold slumbering inside him.

"Even a tiny part of your powers would be enough," Jongdae insisted.

"But what about Luhan?"

It was kinda funny, Jongdae vaguely thought as he pulled Minseok in closely.

Even someone as mature, strong and elegant as Minseok could be so reliant on support in some areas.

He pressed a quick kiss to his cheek and squeezed him tightly.

"Just trust me, Minseok. You're so much more powerful than you think you are. You got this."

Minseok looked at him in disbelief, but turned towards the cage to try, anyway. The spots were still trickling out, but as predicted, they kept avoiding Minseok without the other even realizing, just like before. And just like before, Jongdae didn't feel the slightest prick of discomfort. Minseok wasn't straining the seal, wasn't pulling or even trying to use his abilities. He'd felt it the moment he had laid eyes on him, and it was still true now - Revria had indeed sent them their strongest citizen, whether they had knowingly done so or not. In terms of raw power, Minseok easily outdid Chanyeol, and might have been able to rival Chen, if he wasn't sealed. That, however, was a battle they would never get to see. As things were, Minseok hesitantly placed his palms on the silver wires. And turned back to them again.

"What am I supposed to do?"

"Just keep the wires cold, try to reach them all," Jongdae instructed. If Minseok was able to keep the cage fueled, they could use Luhan's immense strength elsewhere. Aside from the him, Zitao, and Chen, the only other person able to operate the cage would be Yixing, who should remain on standby in case anyone got hurt.

He felt a tiny prick, and Chanyeol winced behind him. Jongdae gestured for Yixing and Kyungsoo to keep an eye on him, and stepped up behind Minseok, whose eyes were closed in concentration. The cold was radiating off him already, the scent of snow lingering heavy in the air.

Another prick, and Jongdae could see the frost forming on the scrap parts, crawling over the silver and copper-colored cables.

Minseok's breath hitched, and he flinched when Jongdae put a hand on his upper arm, the chaos and noise around them slipping out of focus.

"You okay?" he asked quietly, and Minseok's expressions crunched up, but he nodded.

"I can't remember the last time I tried this," he admitted. "Must have been years. It's probably offended."

It were obviously empty words, the closest Minseok had probably ever been to rambling, and the fact that he felt like his power had a personality was telling.

Another painful prick made Jongdae twitch, but then the frost started to wander a little more easily, dancing over the golden wires, spreading out in every single direction. As expected, it was enough to keep the shadows from going anywhere, and Luhan cheered.

"It's working! Chen, the cage is up again!"

"Fucking finally," Chen exhaled, half skidding, half slipping down a slope instead of taking the stairs, landing next to them in the dust. He shared a look with Jongdae, awaiting his silent approval before he pressed the container against the net.

"It's working," he hummed, visibly relaxing.

They were still surrounded by darkness, dead matter dusting the ground and spots tainting the walls, but Chen clapped his hands with fresh vigour.

"Alright guys, I'd say it's time to clean up," he called out, but before he got to doing just that, he shared a small smile with Jongdae.

"You keep the cage up and running, we do the rest? That's your plan, right?"

Jongdae just shrugged.

"Minseok is doing all the work."

"Jongdae," he cut him off, quick but genuine. "Thank you."

Jongdae dismissed him easily.

"Are we a team or what?" he only asked with a smile, looking around. "Also it's not like we're done yet. If you want to impress Chanyeol, now's the time."

Chen chuckled.

"Chanyeol _knows_ I'm great already. I can impress you instead - so you better don't run away just yet. I learnt a lot in the past few years!"

When he zoomed away to yell instructions at Zitao and Luhan, Jongdae couldn't stop smiling to himself.

"I think it's also been years since he thanked me like that," he hummed, not really expecting Minseok to answer. He did, though, while his hands and eyes remained on the cage.

"I guess he's to you what the cold is to me," he mused, looking a little mussed up, eyes shining and cheeks dusted pink with an unfamiliar kind of exertion. "Always there, always ready to reconcile. Even after such a long time has passed."

In a weird way, this comparison worked, and Jongdae stored the thought away for another time. For the time being, they were still busy. The situation might be under control again - at least it was rapidly getting there, with Zitao, Luhan and Chen making quick work of collecting and herding the spots into the Oasis - but that only meant Jongdae could soon face the situation upstairs. Which was arguably more intimidating to him.

"You want me to go in your place?" Chen offered roughly an hour later, when the Oasis was almost pitch black and Luhan had taken over Minseok's position again.

Jongdae chuckled, rubbing some dirt off his face with the back of his hand.

"Maybe not," he said airily, but then his voice dropped into something more sincere. "But I appreciate the sentiment."

Chen nodded.

"You're better at that stuff, anyway," he shrugged with a lopsided grin, but Jongdae shook his head.

"You might think that, but I often kinda wished you'd be up there with me, giving some of these politicians a piece of your mind, You know?"

"I've always wanted to have you fight by my side, too," Chen admitted immediately, as if the statement had been waiting on the tip of his tongue for a long time now. “And I was right about that, I guess. Without your quick thinking and overview on everyone’s capabilities, we might have been screwed. It would have been awesome, don’t you think?"

It was bittersweet, but surprisingly enough, Jongdae felt motivated by that. Even a hint of sweetness was enough for him to keep going, apparently.

"Yeah."

He wanted to say more than that, he really did, but nothing came out. He broke into a smile, and then into a small laugh, shoulders drawing up as he did so. Chen responded with a smile on his own, despite his head being tilted in confusion.

"That just came out so awkward," Jongdae muttered, echoing their words in a weird matter-of-fact tone, "Wouldn't that have been great? Yeah, what a great story that never happened. Alright, moving on."

Chen lightly pushed him away.

"You weirdo," he said, but he was smiling over his embarrassment.

"I know, I know," Jongdae relented, and then finally got a grip on himself, mentally preparing himself to leave. "You got this here, right? I'll go upstairs and find out what even happened in the first place. I hope Junmyeon is fine."

Chen huffed.

"Please. He probably subjugated the entire party as soon as you gave him the permit," he stated flatly, and Jongdae opened his mouth to disagree, but eventually settled on a mix between a nod and a shrug.

"Okay, probably true. I'll go check up on the others, then."

"You do that. It's not like I'm going anywhere," Chen said lightly, but Jongdae remained serious.

"Thanks. I'll be back later."

 

Kyungsoo and Chanyeol stayed downstairs, already working on a more permanent solution, and Yixing reluctantly stayed with them. Minseok, however, chose to stay by Jongdae's side and they burst into the conference room together, looking sweaty, disheveled, and covered in grime. It was like jumping from an active volcano into a lake of ice water - an entirely different kind of hell, but hell nonetheless. Everyone immediately jumped them because it turned out that Junmyeon had made quite the statements in his absence. Apparently, Revria had attacked a smaller nation, trying to conquer it and take over their lands, and Junmyeon had retaliated by stating that Berien would cut all trades with an immediate effect, unless the act of war is stopped. Obviously, the uproar had been big, but Junmyeon had apparently stood there with crossed arms, completely unimpressed and not budging, with Jongin behind him looking like a scolded kid more so than a bodyguard. Jongdae tried to bite back his grin, because that would be a truly inappropriate reaction. Junmyeon showed no remorse, but he didn't meet Jongdae's eyes either, excusing himself now that the prince himself was back.

"You can stay.... if you would like to," Jongdae offered, palm resting on the table of his free left. "I value your input on this."

And after a short contemplation, Junmyeon did decide to stay.

With him on his left, and Minseok on his right, and his brother and other friends having his back, Jongdae felt much more ready to handle the change the world was going to go through. The one he'd have to initiate, apparently.

It would take a while longer, and he wouldn't be able to put all the cards on the table right away, but his uncle would pass on the full authorities to him soon enough. By then, Jongdae wanted the world to be ready. Ready for the shadows lingering in the mountain, ready to fight them together, and ready for Chen.

Though he really doubted the world would ever truly be _ready_ for Chen or what the two of them would be able to pull off together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last update will consist of a little epilogue and a small bonus chapter!  
> See you guys tomorrow ♡


	43. Chapter 43 - [Epilogue]

Minseok had assumed life in the castle would become more stressful after the incident, and in a way, it did. But in another way, it didn't _feel_ much busier than before. The political situation was tense, that much was true, but with no assassins being after them and no secrets to hold him back, Minseok could actually be productive at last. He'd been meeting up with the few architects of the capital, taking first lessons from them. He didn't devote too much time to it though, because he was working on another project on the side - together with Kyungsoo and Chanyeol, he'd come up with the idea of building something that would keep the spots inside the tunnels, similar to the golden cage, in case another emergency happened. It certainly kept him busy, and seeing an idea actually come to life bit by bit, step by step, was amazing.

 

Sometimes, if he was free, he'd still accompany Jongdae to his political meetings. Even if he ended up quietly sketching or reading, Jongdae appreciated the company. He still didn't have a new assistant, claiming that he wanted to manage himself for a while.

Junmyeon was still around, waiting for his punishment to end and the seal to fade. Jongdae kept in close contact to him, sometimes even asking him for advice, but never pushing him. In turn, Junmyeon often chose to stay away from all kinds of politics, instead exploring other occupations. Apparently, he was entertaining the thought of moving downstairs to fight alongside Chen and the others as soon as he had his abilities back. He reasoned that if he needed to use them to stay balanced and at peace, he could just as well do something useful with them. And fighting the spots first hand might take away his fear.

Jongdae suspected Yixing behind Junmyeon's tentative change of heart.

He said it's a very Yixing thing to say. He was probably right.

 

Jongdae also said that he had plans of making Jongin a royal bodyguard, but that, too, was a tentative plan and depended entirely on Jongin, who seemed happy being Yixing's scholar for the time being. His seal was almost lifted, but he had already formally requested to stay, bowing down in front of Jongdae and everything. Jongdae only told him that he considered him a part of the castle already, and the way Jongin actually beamed at this was all worth it.

 

Yes, things were looking up. It's been a turbulent time since Minseok arrived in Berien, and it didn't seem like it would slow down any time soon, but whenever he sat around the breakfast table, sharing it with Jongdae, Chanyeol or Yixing, sometimes even with Chen and his friends, with all those people that were in his life now...

...he wouldn't have it any other way.

 

* * *

 

"I can stay," Jongin blurted out, standing in the lab's doorway, hands nervously wringing behind his back. Before Yixing could turn towards him, his gaze flit to the floor.

"In the castle, I mean. I just asked Jongdae."

"Well, of course you can," Yixing smiled - Jongin saw it when he dared to glance up at him - and the porcelain softly clicked against the counter as Yixing put his tools down.

"He also asked me to become a royal guard - offered it, I mean," he added, quick to correct himself.

Yixing hummed with interest.

"That's nice."

"Yeah," Jongin muttered, only looking up when Yixing stood right before him.

"Do you want to?"

He looked patient as ever, his voice soft and not holding any judgement.

Jongin swallowed.

"Are you going to tell me not to hold back on your regard?" he asked almost challengingly, and it did something to Yixing. Something unreadable flickered over his expression, and for a few, tense seconds, he didn't reply anything at all, which was fairly untypical for him. Having to think of something to say. Coming up empty.

Then he blinked the thought away, the spell not entirely broken, but cracking at the seams.

"You're really, really testing me, aren't you?" Yixing asked, barely above a whisper, and Jongin refused to back down, only staring at him defiantly. He knew Yixing would be too good of a person to even think of making a move on him. They had started out with him in a clear position of power, and remnants of that still remained. Yixing had been right about both of them being equally stubborn though.

"Should I stay?" Jongin only whispered, searching his eyes for something, waiting for a single, clear confirmation that whatever had been going on between them wasn't one-sided.

It was quiet for a moment, and Jongin feared that Yixing would revert to his usual, polite self and dismiss him.

Finally, Yixing put on a mildly thoughtful expression.

"In the castle? Definitely," he said, and Jongin couldn't help pouting in disappointment.

"That's not what I-"

"With Jongdae and the others, to become a royal bodyguard?" Yixing continued softly, ignoring Jongin's protests, "Sure. If that's what you want. You'll do a fantastic job, I'm certain of that."

Jongin was still wrestling with his own, disappointed smile, when Yixing reached around him.

"But in this very moment," he continued, voice dropping to something even more quiet as he closed the door, staying like this, with his arm just barely touching him. "You should stay right here."

It was low, but gentle, a suggestion more so than a demand.

A question even.

One that Jongin had an answer to.

He closed the gap first, honoured that he was allowed to, that Yixing would let him, that any of this was happening. Yixing gently, but firmly pressed him against the door, careful to avoid the handle digging into his back. It was a gesture that didn't go unnoticed by Jongin, who couldn't help smiling into the kiss. A gentleman through and through.

He couldn't wait being allowed to return the kindness and support to him.

 

* * *

  


"I wanna go on vacation."

Chanyeol looked up from where he was forming something out of clay at his desk, trying to stick to Minseok's sketches that were pinned to a cork board.

Chen was sitting at his window as usual. He adored Chanyeol's room and never got tired of the view it offered. The prototype of a mechanic little crab was sitting on the windowsill, forgotten for the moment.

"Oh yeah?" Chanyeol asked, still halfheartedly shaping the clay while sneaking glances at the other, "Where to?"

"Everywhere," Chen stated, eyes glued to the horizon.

Chanyeol chuckled.

"Pretty sure you'd call that a pilgrimage."

"Pretty sure you need a destination to call it a pilgrimage," Chen argued, because they were like that.

"Pretty sure you can find yourself and that can be the destination," Chanyeol quipped back.

"I wanna see the ocean," Chen stated, whimsical as ever.

"The ocean? Sounds great,” Chanyeol shrugged. “How about some of the small islands surrounding Selven? There should be some tiny off the mark villages that wouldn't even recognize you. When do you wanna go?"

Chen shot him a look balancing amusement and disbelief.

"You make it sound really easy right now. Like Jongdae's not gonna strangle me."

Chanyeol only rolled his eyes - a habit he picked up from Chen and should probably drop again.

"As if. Jongdae's such a ball of fluff-"

"I wouldn't be too sure about that," Chen joked, and Chanyeol lightly bumped him with his foot, too lazy to get up from his chair.

"-you didn't let me finish. I was gonna say he's such a ball of fluff when it comes to you and you only. You know he'll do everything to get you to the ocean if you asked him to."

"Only because I never ask for anything," Chen commented, sounding dismissive, but Chanyeol knew he was secretly pleased. He'd probably rather die than admit it out loud, but he was preening under the attention of his brother.

"Then let's go right now," Chen said challengingly, but Chanyeol shot him down immediately.

"Sehun will arrive in a few days."

"Ah, right. Gotta pretend I'm not existing, then."

He didn't sound particularly bitter or sulky, but Chanyeol put down the clay, anyway.

"You know, I don't think Sehun will go home before he knows every bit of the truth," he said, slipping down to join Chen on the carpet. "If you thought _I_ was nosy, you're in for a surprise."

"Is that so?" Chen hummed, fingers already wandering up Chanyeol's thighs. "Good thing I _love_ surprises."

"Good thing I know about that," Chanyeol parroted, easily flipping Chen around until his back met the carpet.

"You're just predictable at this point," Chen quipped, but he was smiling and the way he arched into his touch was nothing short of inviting and playfully lascivious.

"Is Minseok home?" Chanyeol hummed, watching the other's expression drop.

"What, you wanna ask him to join?" he asked, hilariously unimpressed, and Chanyeol flicked his hair.

"No, but I'd like to live to see the next day, and Minseok was very clear about the level of noise he's accepting inside our apartment. Can you feel his presence or not?"

"I can't," Chen dragged out, wriggling a little unter him, without any clear intent of getting anywhere. "So are you gonna do something here in the foreseeable future or not? I'm losing interest down here-"

Chanyeol shut him up with a kiss and refused to let him voice another meaningless taunt for the following minutes. Chen liked to whine and pretend to hate it when Chanyeol got all mushy with him like that, making out lazily with no clear goal or direction.

Chanyeol pretended to believe him, because he was just that in love.


	44. Bonus - [Gold]

The summer carnival was the brightest, most extravagant holiday of Berien. Most nations celebrated good harvests, or dedicated special days to deities they believed in. While Berien did have a day dedicated to their mountain deity, too, it was usually a day for quiet, thoughtful gestures. For the carnival, however, they went all out, decorating the entire capital and castle with fresh flowers, covering the country in sweet scents and wearing their most colorful, vibrant outfits to celebrate the peak of summer.

Jongdae had explained it to Minseok a few days earlier - how their very short summers were the most meaningful, blissful days to the people of Berien. As a nation, they used to either live off the ore found in mountains or whatever woods and plants they could gather in the forests. Miners rarely saw sunlight in the first place, and in the depths of the woods, it tended to be pretty dark as well, so the bright summer days were appreciated by just about everyone. The days got longer and the most common flowers of Berien started to bloom around summer, as well.

No one could remember when the summer carnival had first been celebrated, but it just seemed to fit right in with all their other traditions.

The preparations had taken too many days, if Jongdae was concerned, but the result was worth it as always.

On the day of the carnival, everyone was invited to join the festivities at the castle and its near surrounding area, no matter their background. Due to the fact that large parts of the castle were pretty much a public place every day, there was barely any abuse of that freedom happening - most people had been to the castle once in a while, and the motivation to indulge and celebrate outweighed that of impure intentions.

Jongdae was currently sitting in the garden, a table away from his aunt and uncle, overseeing the festivities with a smile.

After all the political tension and weariness, this was a much needed break for the people.

Obviously, there was no such thing as an actual break for a prince - even now he had to be pleasant and presentable, smiling at people and engaging in small talk with messengers of other countries. The music and laughter helped though. And so did Minseok, who hadn't left his side for the past hours.

Currently, they were both dedicating their time to the elderly Selven politician who had requested to sit with them, showering them with praises and kind words.

"The castle looks marvelous as always. All the flowers are a sight to behold."

"It's all thanks to everyone's effort," Jongdae replied easily, the phrase rolling off his tongue with familiarity, but no less genuine in meaning.

"Still humble as ever. Your country is lucky to have you."

The calm wisdom she was exuding reminded him of Yixing. It was probably a sign that Yixing didn't act like his age.

"And your husband, too, of course," the woman added, turning the attention towards Minseok, who stood out with his pure white robe among all the colorful costumes. Jongdae himself was wearing a tailor-made suit covered in mechanical renditions of flowers, topped off with a few real flowers as accessories. It was pompous, but not tasteless, at least as far as Jongdae was concerned. Minseok, on the other hand, had emerged from the dressing rooms clad in white from head to toe, fine silk weaving around his body in elegant swirls and knots, flowing down to almost graze the ground. A single white lily was pinned to his chest, and his tousled, black hair and makeup stood out even more on the pure canvas of white. Jongdae knew that the staff members loved Minseok - it really wasn't a secret anymore, at this point - but it seemed like they really hadn't held themselves back this time. Or maybe Minseok had stopped trying to resist them.

Compared to the first events he'd been attending, Minseok looked like a completely different person. Instead of the guarded posture and uncomfortable expression, he was sitting up straight, head slightly cocked as he listened with interest. He looked confident and at ease, and the smile he shot the lady was straight up deadly. In the past, Jongdae had been told he was a flirt, and Chanyeol had always been popular for his bright, enthusiastic attitude, but Minseok possessed a very different kind of charm - one that was razor sharp, not unlike Chen's. Where his brother was flighty and aimless though, Minseok could be very purposeful and unyielding. Long story short, Minseok had a way of getting what he wanted, one that seemed to work especially well with people older than them. People were inclined to respect him, and maybe Jongdae should be irked by that, considering that he was the nation's prince and garnering respect was one of his main tasks until his uncle would hand over all the authorities to him.

"I haven't even done anything," Minseok said with a smile, following Jongdae's lead all-too naturally, and instead of feeling angry, he only felt both happy, proud, and stupidly enamoured.

When the woman left a while later, Jongdae subtly pushed the chair back against the table in a universal sign that he would rather not have anyone join them for the time being. It felt appropriate, after hours and hours of being available.

He immediately felt more at ease. Around Minseok, he didn't have to act like a prince, or keep his guard up in case anyone confronted him with things related to Chen. Sure, there were people all around them, but for just this moment, Jongdae didn't have to pretend to have hardly any likes or dislikes and he didn't have to pretend to be forgetful in order to smooth over people's suspicions. With Minseok, he could just be himself. It might be a boring persona to some, but it was _his_ persona, and he felt comfortable like that.

"You're in a really good mood today," Jongdae stated, and the smile directed at him tuned playful really quickly.

"Am I?" Minseok asked, relaxing a little into his chair, eyes twinkling. "Maybe I'm aiming for the _best husband_ award."

Jongdae huffed.

"Not like Chanyeol is making for a tough rival. Or any rival at all."

They looked over to where Chanyeol was goofing around with his friend Sehun, a young, distant-looking boy who lit up whenever Chanyeol addressed him. Chen was there, too, albeit disguised under a mask, like he usually was whenever the opportunity presented itself.

Jongdae would have liked offering to switch places with him, but this event was still a tad too important, politically-speaking. Chen had only shrugged him off, stating that the mere option of joining the festivities and being with everyone else was enough. Seeing them made Jongdae feel a tad nostalgic. It had been almost a year since Minseok and Chanyeol had arrived in Berien and joined him on a masked ball not too long after. Back then, Chen had been lingering at the sidelines, among Zitao and Luhan, shooting daggers at the way Jongdae was flirting with Chanyeol. Now he was the one dancing with Chanyeol, while Jongdae sat with Minseok, and things felt _right_.

"He really isn't," Minseok agreed with a hum, only to turn back to Jongdae with a challenging grin. "When are you gonna ask me for a dance? As far as I see it, you're the least responsible husband of the evening."

Jongdae feigned an offended expression.

"Oh? And here I thought I was doing you a favour by _not_ asking you to dance with me. That's what I get for being considerate, I see."

Minseok pinched his thigh under the table, and Jongdae caught his hand, squeezing it lightly. In response, he felt the other's fingers rub over the spot, soothing the mild burn (because Minseok had been joining Chanyeol and Chen in their workouts way too often recently, and it showed even in small gestures).

Jongdae wasn't worried about anyone seeing their subtle exchange. Neither of them was interested in public displays of affection, but their relationship was no secret either. No one seemed to mind - in fact, Jongdae's family had been vocal in their encouragement, happy to see Jongdae finding a partner. Not to mention that of all the possible partners, he had chosen one of the two most acceptable ones. It seemed like he was determined to stay unproblematic and easy to handle, but Jongdae wasn't interested in rebelling against anyone or anything, so that was alright.

"Congratulations on this event, my prince," a voice said smoothly, disregarding the silent request to be left alone. The person standing next to their table was obviously from Revria, albeit not a familiar face. These days, only very few Revrian politicians stayed in contact with them - but that was a battle for another day.

"Thank you very much," Jongdae replied politely, ignoring the slightly condescending undertone. To Revrians, their summer carnival probably looked primitive, but it wasn't in his intention to try and convince him otherwise. The man's eyes traveled to his side, resting on Minseok.

"And if it isn't Kim Minseok," he added, feigning surprise. Jongdae didn't need his heightened senses to tell that the other was looking for trouble.

"I barely recognized you as one of ours," he almost leered, and Jongdae felt the other's hand slip off his thigh. "You adapted pretty quickly, didn't you?"

The way Minseok was very obviously eyed annoyed Jongdae - not because he was jealous, but because the man was exuding disdain, and no one had the right to make Minseok feel bad about his current appearance. Not after he had finally become comfortable.

To his surprise, Minseok had a smile for this guy, too. It was sharp enough to cut.

"I'd call it growth," he commented light-heartedly, and it had always amazed Jongdae how someone so naturally soft-spoken could sound so icy.

"These lands have highlighted my potential, if anything," Minseok added, still deceivingly light, while frost bloomed on the man's glass, easily freezing his drink. A subtle warning that seemed to work.

"Is that so? What a relief," the man said, his smile strained as he subtly adjusted his grip on the glass. It was Minseok's turn to feign surprise.

"Oh, is that too much ice already? I meant to do you a favour."

"It's- plenty. Thank you."

With that, the man all but fled before Minseok could humiliate him any further.

"Look at him go," Jongdae murmured in amusement, while Minseok refused to even look after him.

"Starting trouble on a day like this is just disrespectful," he muttered, clearly unimpressed. Jongdae, however, _was_ impressed. Not just by his attitude that had changed a lot from the apprehensive, prejudiced guy eyeing him in a conference room - it was the purposeful, precise way he manipulated the cold that was commendable, considering their very much effective seals.

"You're getting better every day," he stated, downing the rest of his colorful cocktail. "You're really making it look like you're not sealed at all."

Minseok only dismissed him with a good-natured eye roll.

"That was nothing. It's just a glass of water."

"Still," Jongdae began, when someone caught his eye and he forgot to finish his sentence. It was Junmyeon, who was passing by with two drinks. Their eyes had met, and for some reason, that had made him stop in his tracks. He hesitated for quite some time, before changing directions and walking towards their table. Glass softly clicked against the table when one of the drinks was placed before Jongdae.

"Thanks," Jongdae said awkwardly. Even now, he couldn't help making himself smaller around Junmyeon, couldn't help the bitter aftertaste of guilt lingering between them.

"A prince shouldn't have to get his own drinks," Junmyeon said neutrally, and paused.

The moment of awkwardness was interrupted by Minseok getting to his feet.

"I'll be back in a bit," he excused himself, and both Jongdae and Junmyeon looked after him. A part of him wanted Minseok to stay, but the more mature part told him to stop being a coward. For a few, long seconds, nobody said a word and the background noise of the festival masked their uncomfortable feelings.

When they did speak up, it was at the same time.

"Wanna take a seat?"

"Mind if I sit down?"

Jongdae huffed at their bad timing, and wordlessly pulled back the chair for him.

Junmyeon sat down, immediately taking a sip of his drink. Jongdae wondered whether he needed the alcohol to face him, but squashed the thought.

"How are you doing?"

"Good," Junmyeon replied with an absent nod. "I've been spending a lot of time with Luhan and Zitao lately."

"So I've heard," Jongdae commented, but there was no malicious intent behind his words. Junmyeon had been accompanying the trio downstairs a lot, and Chen had begrudgingly admitted that his powers would make for a great addition to the team.

"Do you like it?" Jongdae asked carefully, and to an outsider, their conversation must sound completely random.

Junmyeon leaned back into his seat, staring at nothing in particular. It didn't seem like he had to actually think about it though.

"I think I do," he confessed. "It feels useful."

"The good kind of useful or...?" Jongdae asked, because he couldn't help it - he was definitely the last person who had the right to be worried about him, but Junmyeon replied with a small, benign smile.

"A good kind. One that's not all-consuming."

"Oh. Good. That's good to hear," Jongdae hummed awkwardly.

"It's not like your duties," Junmyeon added after a short pause. It had Jongdae tilt his head in question, but Junmyeon wasn't meeting his eye.

"I don't know how you do it, living the way you do," he trailed off, gaze wandering over the dancing, chatting, laughing people. "But I'm glad you manage to."

Of all the people in the world, even including his family and Minseok, Junmyeon was probably the person who understood Jongdae's burdens best. Maybe that was why the compliment felt so soothing and reassuring.

"You could have done it, too," Jongdae provided, meeting Junmyeon's sceptic gaze with a smile. "If I'd been more cooperative. But you deserve better, anyway."

Junmyeon huffed, clearly not believing him, but having no retort ready.

Instead, he took another sip of his drink, watching the people around them, while Jongdae watched _him_. Despite the somewhat awkward atmosphere between them, he seemed more relaxed than ever, and it showed in his posture, expression, and even appearance. Gone were the prim and proper costumes and the polite, purposefully demure posture. Now, Junmyeon's costume blended in well with the others, with countless shades of blue, from vibrant to dark, with splashes of color and bronze lining the eloquent suit. It wasn't too flashy and pompous, but nonetheless exuded class and confidence, emphasizing his fit body and long legs.

"You look good today," Jongdae blurted out. He couldn't remember the last time he had seen him so casual. Or flustered.

"Thanks," Junmyeon muttered in surprise, softly swirling the liquid around his glass. "I was worried it would be a little too much, but next to you, I feel perfectly subtle."

"How rude," Jongdae joked lightly and went back to his drink, enjoying the sweet taste of what he assumed to be strawberries and apple.

"Remember how we first met?" Junmyeon asked without any warning or context. Jongdae thought about it.

"Wasn't it during some private lessons in the castle?" he asked back. "Economics or something like that?"

"Yeah. Politics, actually."

Jongdae hummed.

"I think I was sixteen back then. Man, that was pretty much ten years ago."

"You asked if you could copy my homework," Junmyeon said blankly, and Jongdae snorted.

"Sounds like me. Like every aspect of me," he added, still vague in his expressions, but Junmyeon understood.

"It was definitely you," he argued, looking a tad exasperated. "It had been my first lesson inside the castle."

"Right," Jongdae mused. They had been called private lessons, but only because they happened away from any school, in the safety of the castle, allowing only a very small, selected number of students to join. Junmyeon, like a few other kids, had proven to be both intelligent and diligent, and thus been allowed to partake in the lessons.

"Back then I thought to myself _what kind of a useless prince is this?_ " Junmyeon admitted, and Jongdae laughed quietly, shoulders drawing up and head dropping down because it might sound mean, but it was very much on point.

"You still let me copy it," he argued with a teasing lilt, and Junmyeon was unimpressed.

"What did you expect, for me to deny the prince?"

"Sorry."

Junmyeon sighed, but it wasn't the familiar, defeated sigh.

"Don't be. You prove yourself time and time again, so who cares about old stories like that anymore?"

"Then why did you bring it up?" Jongdae asked, out of sheer curiosity.

Junmyeon shrugged.

"I don't know. I thought it was funny, how much things have changed."

Jongdae took a sip from the drink Junmyeon had brought him, and voiced his next thoughts out loud.

"You think so? I think we're closer to that day than ever."

Junmyeon dismissed him with doubtful look.

"Cheesy as usual," he muttered. "You've always been too nice to be a prince."

"And you've always been too good to be an assistant to someone," Jongdae quipped back.

Junmyeon smiled into his drink, and a comfortable silence settled among them. They both looked into the crowd of people, gaze wandering over familiar and unfamiliar faces, observing the way Chanyeol danced awkwardly with Minseok, while Kyungsoo shared a drink with Chen. Yixing was nowhere to be seen, and neither was Jongin, but Jongdae had a pretty good idea what they were up to and didn't want to know too many details. It was nice, being around Junmyeon and not talking, not even thinking about work.

When his gaze wandered past Minseok and to another familiar face - to the only person of the group without a drink, he remembered something Chen had told him about.

"So... you and Zitao?" he asked.

Junmyeon choked on his drink in the most ungraceful manner possible.

"Ex _cuse_ me?" he asked between coughing, and Jongdae bit back a grin.

Yes, he'd like to be in Junmyeon's company more often again in the future. Not as co-workers, but as friends.

 

* * *

 

"I've never done this before, by the way."

It took Jongdae a moment to process the words fanning over the crook of his neck.

The sheets were starting to feel warm against his bare back, and he was ridiculously aroused already, considering that they hadn't been doing anything but making out - they were even mostly clothed still. Though Jongdae's wandering hands had already found a way beneath the white silk, greedily running his fingers up and down Minseok side and back.

Now he blinked the haze away and squirmed until he could catch Minseok's eyes, illuminated by the soft glow of lamp dimmed down by a thick bowl of amber covering it.

"Too fast?" he asked quietly, despite Minseok having been the one to start this - he had been the one to push him up against the bathroom door earlier, when Jongdae had emerged, freshly bathed and finally free of his uncomfortable costume. Minseok had taken a shower before him and was wearing a white sleeping robe he had certainly never worn before. If he assumed that Jongdae was into seeing him in white... well, he'd be completely right.

Minseok hummed in denial, kissing up the side of his neck.

"Just wanted you to keep your expectations low."

Jongdae snorted quietly.

"Oh, shut up," he sighed fondly, grabbing the back of Minseok's head to run his fingers through the damp hair, holding him close.

Minseok didn't say anything else after that, determined to map out every patch of skin he could reach with his lips. He mouthed along his collarbones, leaving feathery light kisses over his chest, and after stalling just a little, he tentatively kissed his nipples, too, tongue darting out experimentally. Jongdae felt like a bit of a disappointment because he wasn't particularly sensitive there but the gesture made him feel warm in a different way.

Minseok was somewhat reserved in his advances, but not to the point that he'd stop. He'd never pushed things before, always content with making out, but now he seemed determined to go all the way. The warm, slightly wet kisses wandered lower, until Minseok was nosing beneath his waistband, both hands surprisingly firm on Jongdae's sides.

Jongdae had messed around with people before, with men and women, and while it had been a long time for him, he was far from being a virgin. But there was something about Minseok's touches, something about his patience, perseverance, maybe even reverence, that made Jongdae feel so stupidly aroused and fond at the same time. Before Minseok could sneak more than his thumbs beneath his pants, Jongdae pulled him up and into an impatient kiss, trying to convey every bit of the affection he was feeling in that very moment.

Minseok played along, humming into the kiss while his dexterous fingers made short work of his pants. He didn't even seem to think about his own pleasure, and by the time he had precum on his lips, he was still somewhat dressed, challenging Jongdae's willpower to draw away from the inexperienced, warm lips and tongue to all but rip the clothes off him.  
Minseok hesitated, if only a little, before almost begrudgingly shrugging his robe off, only to immediately go back to kissing Jongdae. It wasn't even that he seemed shy as much as he was fully focused on Jongdae, who was honestly just enjoying the skin contact when Minseok murmured something into his ear.

"How do you prefer it?"

Jongdae considered it, indulged in the most prominent fantasies that had been on his mind recently, but if he was being honest with himself, he’d never even planned to answer.

"How do _you_ like it?" he asked back instead, fingers finally free to slip into the other's pants, kneading his butt and keeping him close.

"How am I supposed to know?" Minseok was quick to retort, pressing close in a clumsy attempt at grinding up on Jongdae - clumsy or not, it certainly worked.

"Not even the slightest idea, you sure?" Jongdae slurred out, nipping at his shoulders and slipping his fingers even lower, rubbing teasing circles into his skin. When his fingertips grazed his rim, Minseok flinched, breath hitching, but it was hard to tell whether it was shock or arousal. Before Jongdae could manage to pry a hand in between them, to touch him in a place he was fairly certain Minseok would enjoy either way, both his hands were batted away and pressed into the mattress.

"I'll do it," Minseok hummed, reaching over to the bedside table and into the second drawer, where Jongdae kept a glass jar filled with gel. Jongdae wasn't sure what exactly Minseok was planning to do, and with the way he was stroking him, it was hard to focus, but then Minseok released a tiny, repressed sound of what sounded like discomfort.

"Wait," Jongdae mumbled, fingers skimming down to where Minseok was already two fingers deep into himself, "You're going too fast. Have you done this before?"

"Once," Minseok panted against collarbones. "Yesterday."

"What? No, no, no, you don't need to do this right now," Jongdae muttered, prying his hand out as gently as he could. Minseok huffed in frustration, but wasn't too deterred.

"The other way around is fine by me, too-"

"Minseok," Jongdae began, cupping his face and looking into his dark, but also slightly unsure eyes. "We don't have to go all the way, you know?"

The statement caused confusion to flicker over his expression, and under every other circumstances, Jongdae would have found it adorable.

"We _can_ ," Minseok only quietly assured him, as if he felt like there was an unspoken rule to these kind of things, an unspoken standard he had to live up to.

"But we don't _have_ to," Jongdae insisted gently, pressing a lasting kiss to his lips. "No need to hurry, right? How about you lie back and let me touch you for a change? Don't be so selfish."

The last part was meant to be a joke, but Minseok somehow took serious offense to it, and maneuvered him around until Jongdae's back was leaning against the headrest, touching him with more fervor than before.

There was still this look of concentration on his face as he kept stroking Jongdae, paying close attention to what made Jongdae squirm or gasp. It was unreasonably attractive, and Jongdae stopped worrying, stopped thinking, and just let himself fall into it, arms slung around Minseok's neck. He came with his eyes closed, breathing harshly and nuzzling into Minseok's slightly sweaty neck, fingers digging into his skin hard.

It was such a simply, vanilla way to climax, and Jongdae loved every single second of it.

He couldn't stop peppering Minseok’s face with kisses, voicing out his thoughts as low mumbles into his ear, telling him how much he loved this, how amazing he was, how he wanted to do this every day. And then, without warning, he dipped down to kiss the other's still mostly hard length, tongueing around the tip as he stroked him of slowly, sensually, reveling in the tiny, shocked sound slipping out.

To his surprise Minseok lasted much longer than he thought he would, giving Jongdae the opportunity to really push him over the edge in a torturously slow, intense way. At some point, strong fingers sank into his hair, holding on tightly, but not pushing or pulling, and it turned out that Minseok could moan, too. His soft voice sounded so good that Jongdae was half-heard again by the time he'd swallowed the other's cum. He didn't plan to act on it, and pressed wet kisses up his side instead, until Minseok pulled him up, looking a little dazed and like he couldn't quite comprehend what they'd just done. Jongdae easily fell into the embrace, sharing warmth and trying to get as close to each other as possible.

"Your diet's really good indeed," Jongdae mindlessly muttered.

Minseok made a short, confused sound.

"Because you taste good," Jongdae explained, receiving a pinch to his back just as MInseok pressed closer.

"Shut up," he muttered.

"I'd say _make me_ ," Jongdae began, clearing his throat to chase away the rough edge, "but maybe another time. We should go to sleep soon. Gotta get up early-"

"In this mess? No way," Minseok cut him off, and Jongdae chuckled.

He was right, they were both kind of gross, and he'd never subject someone to sleep with his own cum drying on their fingers.

"Then let's clean up and sleep in our room," he suggested, lips still tracing every bit of skin he could reach. "We can have the bed cleaned tomorrow."

Minseok muttered something about maids not being allowed in his room, and especially not allowed to clean up _that_ kind of mess, but he followed Jongdae nonetheless. He was oddly pliant, easy to accept Jongdae cleaning his skin with a lukewarm wash cloth, before returning the favour.

When they were cuddled up in Jongdae's much bigger - and thankfully clean - bed, Jongdae felt the exhaustion of the day catch up with him at last, though the satisfaction was still humming beneath his skin, making him feel comfortable and cozy.

It was probably that relaxed state that made him remember something.

 

"We should go up to the terrace again," he suggested. Minseok sounded surprisingly awake still.

"How come?" he asked against his chest.

"I need to make a new wish," Jongdae announced, and Minseok huffed. The following silence allowed Jongdae's mind to wander, stumbling over something else.

"Wait. Back then, when I told you about my last wish," Jongdae began, and Minseok hummed in question, encouraging him to keep going.

"Did you already... like, did you like me already back then?" he asked awkwardly. Minseok actually snorted at this.

"You remain the dumbest prince wandering the earth," he commented dryly, and Jongdae felt hot embarrassment creep up his spine.

"Seriously though,"Minseok continued conversationally, "how did you not know? I sometimes think about this, and no matter how I look at it, it's kinda baffling."

Jongdae was glad that the lights were turned off.

"Well. I don't know. It never crossed my mind as an option. I thought I was out of your league."

"You're a _prince_."

"So?"

Minseok groaned, and wrestled Jongdae around until he could hug him from behind.

"Stop making me like you even more - you've already reached the limit and can stop trying now. Whatever happened to getting up early to follow your royal duties?"

Jongdae chuckled, and instead of a reply, he placed a soft kiss on the other's knuckles, before interlacing their fingers.

They still had a long way to go, both of them, but he was enjoying the journey so far. For the first time ever, he could picture himself - his actual, _real_ self - by someone's side. Minseok had definitely taken all the first steps, being nothing but persistent, albeit in a gentle way. Jongdae would take the next few steps, until they were all caught up and could walk side by side, in their own pace.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...aaaand it's a wrap!  
>   
> I feel like I should have some sort of grand speech prepared after this really long story, but, uhm... yeah. This is a thing *haha*  
> A thing that turned out really long.  
> My main drive with this story was to keep readers on their toes (since the prompt was 'arranged marriage + a twist'), without it being TOO frustrating. I hope I succeeded in that. I was constantly worrying that I played things too subtle, but I didn't want to make things too easy and obvious! So even it might not seem that way, every single development was planned right from the start, and I did my best to keep track of everything an keep it coherent.  
> Still, if you have any questions or are confused by anything at all, don't hesitate to ask away, anonymous or not! Chances are that there's an answer (since I spent the last three month thinking of nothing but this fic)  
>   
> As of now, my lovely, lovely beta texturedjeans is still working on the last couple chapters, so look forward to the error-free version~!  
> She actually picked up on betaing when 18 chapters were posted already, starting around that point in the story, too - and somehow, she was almost always on par with my regular updating schedule. I think that deserves a medal. One out of chocolate, so it isn't completely useless - you're the absolute best! ♡♡♡  
>   
> Long story short, I hope that whoever reads this had a good time with this fic. You have my thanks for picking this up, giving it a shot, and reaching the end, too!  
> Thank you and much love,  
> Sugary ♡
> 
> P.S.: if, for whatever reason, you're interested in what I'm up to next, or wanna participate in my very occasional polls about upcoming fics, you can find me [here](https://twitter.com/SugaryandSalted) ♥
> 
>  


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